


The Mediator

by K_R_Closson



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: August 2016 Troping Along, F/M, Mary Sue Month
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-08
Updated: 2016-08-19
Packaged: 2018-08-07 11:09:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 27,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7712584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/K_R_Closson/pseuds/K_R_Closson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Carrie gets a message from her brother essentially telling her that he loves her and he's sorry they never got to spend time together, she knows something's wrong. She sets out to find him, but she never thought her search would bring her to space. Especially not to a planet that was about to be under siege. With time running out she tries to help save Atlantis. And convince her brother that hugs aren't something he should be afraid of.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My August submission for [Troping Along](http://troping-along.livejournal.com/270.html) \- It's Mary Sue month.

_ Family is important. The people here have become a sort of surrogate family for me. But when one’s contemplating one's own demise one tends to see things more clearly. I really do wish you the best and I’m sorry we weren't closer. If by chance I make it out of this perhaps we can be. I’d like that. _

Carrie listens to her brother’s message three times before what she’s hearing is undeniable.

Her brother’s about to die.

Carrie’s always known that something terrible was going to happen to her brother - you don’t have to be a genius to have seen that coming - but that doesn’t mean she was prepared for it. Her brother is on yet another classified job, but this one, it seems, is going to do him in.

The message is clearly cut from a longer tape, and it’s been carefully screened so Carrie doesn’t know what kind of trouble Rodney’s gotten himself into. Is it radiation? Was he working on an experiment and contracted some kind of radiation poisoning or cancer? Was he working on biological weapons and got infected with something they can’t risk the rest of the world catching?

It doesn’t matter.

Whatever trouble Merry’s gotten himself into, Carrie’s going to get him out of it.

She’s going to need a little help though.

~*~

“No,” Jeannie says when Carrie shows up at her door with a copy of the recording.

“You don’t even know what I’m going to say,” Carrie says, pushing her way into Jeannie’s house.

Merry - Meredith when Carrie’s cross with him - is the oldest of the three siblings. He was three when Carrie was born and then Jeannie was born less than a year later. By age, Carrie’s the middle child, but by the time elementary school was done, Jeannie’d already skipped enough grades that everyone assumes Carrie’s the youngest. 

Carrie finds that it’s easier to let them have their assumptions than to try and explain the situation to them. 

“I know that I don’t want to get mixed up in our brother’s dramatics,” Jeannie says. “And I don’t want you waking Madison up from her nap.”

“Dramatics?” Carrie asks, but she’s careful to keep her voice down. She’ll never get her sister on her side if she wakes Madison up. 

“Meredith’s prone to dramatics,” Jeannie says, as if Carrie didn’t also grow up with the two of them.

“Yes but he’s not prone to sentimentality.” Carrie follows her sister into the kitchen. “You listened to the recording?”

Jeannie frowns but nods. “I did.”

“ _ Family is important _ ?”

“ _ When one’s contemplating one’s own demise _ ,” Jeannie counters.

“Yeah, but  _ I really do wish you the best and I’m sorry we weren’t closer.  _ I think he means it, Jeannie. I think he’s in serious trouble.”

“He’s been in trouble before,” Jeannie reminds her. “The whole atomic bomb fiasco?”

When her brother was in sixth grade he built an atomic bomb for his science fair project. Carrie hadn’t understood what an atomic bomb was then, but she’d definitely understood that it was  _ very very bad _ because strange men in suits came to their house and wanted to talk to her brother. They closed themselves in the living room, and they covered up the air vents so Carrie couldn’t listen in on what they were talking about.

After that her brother started getting picked up from school in a black car with tinted windows. A bunch of the kids said he was being brought to prison, because he was a bad kid and they wanted to make sure he didn’t hurt anyone. Meredith didn’t talk about where he went beyond that it was a special place for smart kids.

That’s when Jeannie really started trying to be just like their brother. She never liked being left out, and she hated that Meredith went somewhere without her every day after school.

It’s also when Carrie realized that being different, being  _ special _ wasn’t something she wanted to be. She knew her brother was smart, knew he was like  _ really  _ smart and the other kids as school were mean to him because of it. They pushed him in the dirt at recess, and they’d knock his glasses off his face, and sometimes they’d even steal his books and tell him he had to chase them if he wanted his books back. 

Meredith’s never been a good runner.

She saw how the other kids were mean to Meredith, and she saw how Meredith was mean to them. The rare kids that would approach him - offer to play with him were always met with mean laughs or a haughty, “You can’t keep up with me,” that dissuaded from other people wanting to play with him too. 

“Yeah and he divided his time between bragging about being classified information that we weren’t allowed to know and complaining that it’s no fun being a genius if you can’t show off,” Carrie says. “Very different tone from  _ If by chance I make it out of this perhaps we can be. _ ”

Carrie doesn’t know who in their family is closest to who. 

Jeannie and Meredith are the smart ones, Jeannie’s intelligence coming close to Merry’s but not quite reaching it. Carrie watched as her brother and her sister tried to play together, watched as any game they played - chess, Risk, even computer games - devolved into massive fights.

She watched and she learned.

Carrie never tried to compete on their level. She created her own level - learning how to play their games well enough to be interesting but never well enough to be a threat. 

Merry always had to be the best at everything, like he had to prove to everyone he was worth having around, and Carrie decided that her brother liking her was more important than being better than him. Jeannie could never figure out whether she wanted to beat him or be best friends with him, and as a result the two of them were almost always fighting. 

But that was years ago, kid stuff (unless you count the drag out fight they had over Jeannie having a family instead of pursuing science).

“Have you two even talked since you told him you were pregnant?” Carrie asks. 

She often fell into the role of mediator - between Merry and Jeannie, Merry and their parents, Merry and their teachers, Merry and the entire world it seemed like sometimes - but she hasn’t had to do it lately. She thought it was because her siblings were getting along. She should’ve known it was because they weren’t even talking to each other.

“You mean since he told me I was wasting my potential to further mankind by, you know, furthering mankind?”

“Jeannie,” Carrie begins, but Jeannie’s just getting warmed up.

“He never liked Kaleb,” Jeannie says. “Because he was an English major, and heaven forbid someone study the language we communicate in. Look,” Jeannie takes a deep breath, “I’m pissed at Meredith, but if I thought there was any truth to this message I wouldn’t be. I’d forgive him. You know that, right?”

Yes but Carrie knows her brother. No way he willingly admits to wanting human connection unless he’s actually on the verge of dying. “Something’s wrong.”

“Of course something’s wrong,” Jeannie says, “but nothing catastrophic.”

Carrie’s eyes narrow. “You know where he is.”

“What?” Jeannie shakes her head. “No.”

She suddenly finds herself busy with the settings on the dishwasher.

Carrie slides around the corner of the island so they’re standing just feet from each other. “You know where our brother is.”

It’s part accusation, part disbelief. Ever since the atomic bomb incident (it says a lot about her family that there’s something they refer to as  _ the atomic bomb incident _ ) Carrie’s gotten used to her brother having secrets, to him going places and doing things she can’t know about. She’s never liked it, but it’s become part of their life.

She’ll get the occasional phone call from him (every month, or two or sometimes even three), and he’ll babble about how he’s a genius and his team couldn’t get by without him and that he’s doing amazing things that he can’t talk about, and she’s lived with that because it was that or never have any contact with her brother.

But Jeannie’s known where he is?

“This whole time?” Carrie demands.

“I don’t know the details,” Jeannie says.

Carrie throws her arms up in the air. She doesn’t believe this.

“I discovered something,” Jeannie says, “Something important. I was read into the project Meredith’s working on, but I declined to go.”

“Because of Kaleb?” Carrie asks. Because that would make about fifteen fights make a lot more sense.

“Because they wanted to militarize and privatize science,” Jeannie says, a bite in her tone that reminds Carrie that no one in their family comes with soft edges. “I didn’t approve of their methods or their approach so I didn’t join up.”

“Merry did, though,” Carrie says.

“I can’t talk about it,” Jeannie says.

“Our brother is missing,” Carrie reminds her. “And even for a man who is notoriously bad about staying in contact, he hasn’t called in a very long time. And now suddenly we’re getting a  _ hey I love you sorry I never said it  _ message? He’s in trouble, and I get it if you can’t leave your family or your job or your life to go figure out what kind of trouble, but I’m going to. Where is he?”

“You don’t get it,” Jeannie says, “You won’t be able to find him.”

“Because it took me the standard amount of time to get through school?” Carrie demands. “Or maybe because my IQ didn’t go setting any records.”

“Carrie,” Jeannie sighs.

“You know where he is,” Carrie says, steel in her spine and in her words. “Can you honestly tell me that knowing what you know you aren’t even a little bit worried about him?”

The first few cracks in Jeannie’s brave face begin to show. “I - “ she looks away. “You can’t even imagine what kind of trouble he might be in. But that doesn’t change the fact that you won’t be able to find him.”

“Fucking watch me,” Carrie says and she storms out of the house, making sure she slams the door loud enough that it’ll wake Madison up.

~*~

Carrie was the exception if you asked her siblings and the only normal one if you asked her parents. She saw the way her brother got teased and how Jeannie struggled to fit in with kids older than her, and she decided she wasn’t going to be like that. She went school the normal way (the slow way according to Jeannie).

When the guys in suits - the CIA she’d later learn - sat her and Jeannie down to take a bunch of tests, Carrie made sure she answered some of the questions wrong even though she knew the answers. She learned in school that you never want to have all the answers or people won’t like you. And, she was afraid that if she knew too many answers then she’d get in trouble the way Merry was in trouble for his science fair project.

It’s what Mom always meant when she said, “You’re too smart for your own good”. Bad things happen if you’re too smart - people don’t like you, scary people come to the house. Carrie didn’t want that. She wanted to be normal.

But being normal wasn’t natural for her - she had to work at it. She had to get answers wrong when she knew the right one, had to keep her hand down when the teacher asked a question, had to make silly moves when she played Merry in chess so she wouldn’t win but still make enough good ones that she was worth playing.

What’s she saying is that she’s not being read into classified projects like her brother and sister, but she’s not  _ stupid _ . 

It doesn’t take her long to track her brother’s last known location to Antarctica, and it doesn’t take her much longer to get there. 

Is everything she’s doing highly illegal?

Yes.

Is it time consuming?

No. 

Everything’s going pretty good up until the point that she manages to get into the secret Antarctic base. Well, she’s not sure she’d say things are going well so much as she’d say they’re going eerily well. As in, doors just whooshing open for her and with no more than a thought of ‘hey, I wish that door would open for me’.

Things stop going well for her about the time six guys with guns show up and surround her.

“Woah,” she says, throwing her hands up in the air to show that she is not a threat. She is very, very much not a threat. “Uh, I come in peace?”

The guns don’t waver. 

She’s starting to think that maybe chasing after her brother wasn’t the safest thing she could be doing with her time. Somehow she failed to connect ‘militarizing science’ and ‘confidential’ with the fact that there’d be lots of guys with guns.

She doesn’t like guns.

She especially doesn’t like guns that are pointed at her.

“Okay,” she says, eyes darting around, wondering which one is going to fire at her first. “Um, I’m really, really sorry. I’m looking for my brother. You would know him if he was here. Average looking but smart. Like, really smart. And obnoxious about it.”

One of the men takes a step towards her, and she takes a hurried step back.

The doors that let her in open for her again, but then she hears the click of what she can only assume are safeties turning off, and she turns around to see  _ more  _ people with guns. There are women soldiers, but Carrie will save her excitement for gender equality for a time when there aren’t guns being pointed at her.

“Is that a no on knowing my brother?” Carrie asks. She does a careful turn, her neck prickling because no matter what she’s going to have her back to at least two people. “Because if it is then I can just leave.”

“How did you open the doors?” the man who stepped forward asks.

“Uh, I thought it?” 

Oh! She thought it.

She wishes for some kind of shield to protect her, and she’s not sure who’s more shocked when a shimmery barrier appears - her or the guards.

“Uh,” she says again, reaching out to poke the shield. She gets a little zap of electricity and pulls her hands back towards her body. This isn’t necessarily a good development. In theory, she’s now protected. But she’s also stuck. And apparently she’s in a place that’s ruled by telepathy. 

She -

She’s in a place  _ ruled by telepathy _ .

“How did you do that?” the man with the gun demands.

“I want my brother,” Carrie says. She looks up at the ceiling. “Do you hear me? I want my brother!”

“How did you get here?” the man says.

Carrie ignores him. “I want my brother!” 

She feels like an idiot yelling at the air, but she’s pretty sure these people are going to shoot her if they get the chance so she doesn’t really care what they think about her. She doesn’t understand where she is, doesn’t understand what technology the US has been developing, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t going to try and use it.

“Take me to Meredith Rodney McKay!” she shouts. 

“McKay?” someone asks.

“ _ Rodney _ ?” she hears, incredulous, and then her fingers and toes begin to go numb.

Um, she thinks and then she feels like she’s flying apart, body ripped into thousands of tiny pieces.

~*~

She slams back into her body, into  _ reality  _ by slamming into the ground. 

“Oof,” she says.

She’s trying to get her eyes to work when she hears the unmistakable click of a gun.

“Not again,” she says, rolling onto her back. 

She blinks against the light and holds up an arm. If she’s going to be shot then she at least -

“Woah,” she says looking around the room she’s in. “This is  _ not _ where I just was.”

“No kidding,” a new guy with a gun says. 

He doesn’t look quite as scary as the last guy, it has something to do with the hair, but he’s still got a gun, so Carrie puts her hands up again. “Please don’t shoot me.”

“Please don’t give me a reason,” he says.

And - and Carrie thinks she could like this guy. “You’re much friendlier than the last guy that had a gun pointed at me. Um,” she looks around again, frowning at the arch near her. “Would it be weird if I asked where I was?”

“You just materialized out of thin air,” the guy says, “I’m not sure any of this can get any weirder.”

“Right,” she says. “Can I stand up?”

“Sure.” 

He takes a step back, but she notices he doesn’t lower the gun so she very, very slowly gets to her feet. She’s in a room with the arch thing behind her and a set of stairs in front of her, and they lead up to what looks like a series of - terminals maybe? 

People are peering over the railing to get a look at her so she doesn’t feel bad staring right back.

There’s a woman coming down the stairs in some kind of uniform, and she, at least, doesn’t have a gun so maybe Carrie’s not in as much trouble as she thought she’d be.

“I see we have a visitor,” the woman says.

“Yeah,” the guy with the gun says. “Elizabeth, meet, uh, what’s your name?”

“Carrie,” Carrie says. She dusts her hands off on her pants. “Uh, I’d shake your hand, but I don’t want to get shot.”

“John, lower your gun,” Elizabeth says. “Carrie, may I -”

Carrie loses interest in Elizabeth, even in John and the fact that he’s lowered his gun, because there’s someone else coming down the stairs. Someone who -

“MERRY!” she shouts and she runs forward, but Merry’s face stops her before she even reaches the stairs. 

“Carrie?” he demands. 

“You two know each other?” John asks. 

Meredith’s still standing on the third step, staring down at her. 

“He’s my older brother,” Carrie says. 

Meredith’s still just  _ staring _ .

“Though maybe not,” Carrie says with a frown. “I’m not sure my brother’s ever been this quiet in his life.”

“I’m just a little surprised to see you here,” Merry says, managing to recover. “You are the last person I’d expect to see.”

“You sent a panicked ‘I’m about to die’ message,” Carrie says. “What’d you think was going to happen?”

“Uh, well,” Merry puffs himself up. “I didn’t mean to panic you, but honestly, if one of you was going to find Atlantis, I figured it would be Jeannie.”

Right. 

Carrie takes a few steps away from the stairs and clears her throat. “So, uh, I thought my brother was dead or dying and since he doesn’t want a hug does someone want a ‘yay you’re alive hug’?”

“I’ll take one.”

She turns to see the man with the fluffy hair - John - with his hand raised. 

His other hand’s still holding a gun.

“Put the gun down, and we’ve got a deal,” she says.

John shrugs and clips his gun to his belt before opening up his arms. 

“What are you doing?” Merry demands.

“Hugging,” Carrie says. “Can’t your genius brain tell you that?” 

“Okay,” Merry huffs. “The snark is unnecessary.” 

John is a good hugger, Carrie decides. There was no awkward whose arms go where, and even though she’s a little shorter than him he doesn’t end up with a mouthful of her hair. The arm muscles are also kind of a plus. She should probably stop hugging him. 

“I think we should move this reunion to somewhere more private,” Elizabeth says.

Right now, Carrie’s got an eyeful of a black cotton t-shirt that’s definitely a size too tight, and when she pulls back enough to look up at John’s face he looks as alarmed as she does.

“Now, look Elizabeth,” John says. “I’ve just met the lady and -”

“That’s my sister you’re talking about!” Merry reminds him, and John’s face turns bright red.

“Yes, well,” Elizabeth looks like she’s trying hard not to laugh. “Dr. McKay, Major Sheppard, Miss McKay if you’ll come with me to the briefing room. And if someone could please page Dr. Beckett and Teyla and have them meet us there I would appreciate it.”

Carrie dutifully follows Elizabeth to the briefing room she was talking about and sits down, surprised when John sits down next to her instead of stacking all of them on one side of the table.

“Rookie interrogation mistake,” she says.

Sheppard raises his eyebrows. “This isn’t an interrogation. And I’m not a rookie.”

“I kind of gathered that when she called you Major,” Carrie says. 

She glances across the table at her brother, but he’s sitting at in his chair, arms crossed and staring at the table. She should know better than to expect some kind of emotional reaction from him, but after that message he sent she thought he’d have some kind of reaction or, you know, at least look happy she’s here.

“So, um, you’re looking healthier than I thought you would,” Carrie says.

Merry sighs. “Not everyone is here for the briefing yet. There’s no point in going through everything twice.”

Right. 

Carrie leans back in her chair and scowls at the table.

A couple minutes later, the doors swish open and a woman who isn’t in a uniform like Elizabeth or Merry comes in followed by a man who  _ is  _ in the uniform.

“This is our visitor?” the man asks, a Scottish accent coloring his words. He holds up a small bag. “Need a check-up?”

“I’m pretty sure I’m healthy,” Carrie says, “but I’m also really confused on how I got here and where here even is so maybe there is something wrong?”

“This is Dr. Carson Beckett,” Elizabeth says. “If it’s okay with you he’ll check you over while we talk.”

“Sure,” Carrie says. “As long as you’re not taking blood or anything. I don’t like needles.”

“That shouldn’t be necessary,” Dr. Beckett tells her. 

He takes the seat on the other side of her and pulls out a stethoscope which honestly kind of throws her. She found a secret base with thought controlled doors and shields and maybe even transportation but they still use stethoscopes. 

“Let’s do introductions again,” Elizabeth says. “I’m Dr. Elizabeth Weir, and I’m in charge of Atlantis.”

Carrie nods like she has any clue what Atlantis is. “That makes three doctors in the room.”

“I’m the only medical doctor,” Dr. Beckett tells her. “You can call me Carson or Dr. Beckett.”

Carrie nods again.

John waves at her. “Major John Sheppard.”

“And I’m Teyla Emmagan,” the second woman says. She sits down on the other side of John. “I’m an Athosian.”

Right. Atlantis and Athosians. She totally knows what those are supposed to mean. 

Everyone’s looking at her now.

Her turn. “I’m Carrie McKay,” she says.

“McKay?” Dr. Beckett looks across the table. “Like?”

“Exactly like,” Carrie answers. “Merry’s my older brother.”

“Rodney,” her brother says, his shoulders rigid. “Or Dr. McKay.”

“Rodney,” she repeats. Her brother’s been sensitive about his name since; well, since she can remember, but he usually lets her get away with calling him by his first name or her favorite nickname for him. Of course, she’s never visited him at work before and that’s definitely what she’s just done.

She nervously taps her fingers on the table. “If I start asking questions am I going to end up with guns pointed at me again?”

“I apologize for earlier,” Dr. Weir says. “Usually unauthorized visits don’t mean anything good. It’s good to be prepared.”

“Yeah, no, I mean, it was a little worrisome when Major Sheppard had his gun out, but before I got here there were a lot of guns. Like,  _ a lot _ of guns.”

“Where were you before here?” Merr - Rodney asks. “Wait, no. Clearly, you were on Earth. The real question is, how did you get here?”

“I wished,” she said, “Really, really hard.”

Her brother isn’t the only one to give her a flat look.

Dr. Beckett adjusts his stethoscope and says, “Deep breath for me, please.”

She breathes then says, “I got M - Rodney’s message, and it sounded like he was in trouble so I went looking for him.”

“I didn’t give away any classified information,” Rodney says. 

“Yeah but I know people,” she says. “And I was feeling pretty damned determined. I tracked your last known location to Antarctica and then I snuck in.”

Dr. Beckett stops moving the stethoscope. “I’m sorry. Did you just say you snuck into the Antarctic base?”

“Security’s gotten worse since we were there, I guess,” Major Sheppard says.

Carrie shrugs and then breathes when prompted again. “I mean, snuck in might be a bit an exaggeration. The doors all kind of opened for me. Everything went really well until the guys with the guns found me.”

“The doors opened for you?” Dr. Weir asks. 

“Yeah and then this shield appeared when I got scared and - wait. What do you mean  _ when I was on Earth _ ?”

“Oh boy,” Dr. Beckett says. “Can I check pulse and blood pressure before you break the news?”

“Break what news?” Carrie asks. No one will meet her eyes. She looks over at Teyla, and the woman looks human, but Carrie’s never heard of Athosia or wherever Athosians might be from and - “Oh my goodness. Oh. My. Goodness. Aliens? Am I in space right now? No way. No. Way. I -” she shakes her head. “Not possible.”

“Very possible,” Dr. Weir tells her. “We’re in the Pegasus Galaxy right now.”

“No,” Carrie says. “You can’t  _ wish _ yourself into space.”

“Yeah, that’s kinda weird,” Major Sheppard says. 

“Not weird,” Dr. Weir says. “Unlikely but not weird. You said the base responded to you in Antarctica?”

Carrie nods. “Doors would just open. And then this shield came down from the ceiling. And I figured that if there was some kind of telepathic technology going on then I’d try to find my brother using it. My entire body went numb and then suddenly I was here.”

“It shouldn’t be possible,” Dr. Weir says. “That kind of power -”

“No,” Rodney butts in. “She can’t - she’s not - if  _ I  _ didn’t have the gene then how could she?”

“What gene?” Carrie asks. “And why are we hiding space travel from the general population? I’d think it was something everyone would be pretty gung ho about.”

“You don’t have the security clearance for any of this,” Rodney says. He looks over at Major Sheppard. “You can’t actually be considering telling her what’s going on.”

“Well, she’s here,” Major Sheppard says, “and it’s not like she can go back.”

“Um, what?” Carrie asks. 

Dr. Weir takes a deep breath. “This is a long story,” she says, “and I’m afraid Dr. McKay is right. You don’t have the security clearance for our mission. We’re going to have to discuss what to do with you.”

Carrie swallows back her first few responses, none of them kind or helpful. She’s been on a wild ride to get here (to get to  _ space _ apparently) and she’d come because of a cryptic message and now she’s still not being told anything. 

“Am I allowed to walk around?” she asks. “Or will looking at things violate your security protocols?”

Dr. Weir isn’t the only one to wince. “Miss McKay -”

“Carrie. Just - my name is Carrie. Look -” Carrie drags a hand down her face. “I apparently broke into a military facility earlier today and then, apparently, someone managed to transport myself from Earth to outer space. Is there somewhere I can go lie down?”

“The infirmary to start,” Dr. Beckett says. “I want to do a full series of tests and scans. Make sure everything’s in working order.”

“We’ll get you a place to stay,” Dr. Weir promises. “Do you want to be near your brother?”

Carrie laughs. “Don’t bother.” She shoves her chair backwards as she gets up, and Dr. Beckett jumps out of the way.

“I’ll accompany you and Dr. Beckett,” Teyla says. “I’m not sure I’m the best to discuss security clearances and classifications.”

Carrie eyes the weapons strapped to Teyla’s waist. “But you’re well suited to just straight security?”

“Carrie,” Rodney says, frowning at her.

Carrie cannot believe she actually thought trying to find her brother was a good idea.  _ I’m about to die _ video messages aside, she should’ve known that anything her brother was involved in was bad news. Hadn’t she learned from the atomic bomb incident? There’s a reason she stayed far out of her brother and sister’s professional lives.

She was supposed to be the normal one.

Teleporting to space is not normal.

“Alright,” Carrie says to Dr. Beckett. “Show me to where this infirmary is. But if you try to restrain me to the bed I’ll fight you. And just ask Rodney - I bite. And I pull hair.”

“Restraints won’t be necessary,” Dr. Beckett says. “You’re not a threat.”

“Just unwelcome,” Carrie says cheerfully and then walks out of the room before anyone can respond.


	2. Chapter 2

She gets her blood drawn and not even Dr. Beckett’s apologies makes her happy about it. She really doesn’t like needles. Almost as much as she doesn’t like guns. 

“So, you’re really Dr. McKay’s sister?” Dr. Beckett asks.

“One of them. We have a younger sister Jeannie. Apparently she knew about whatever this is but didn’t want anything to do with it.” Carrie sighs. “If I ever get back home she’s going to  _ I told you so _ me so hard.”

“You’ll get back home,” Dr. Beckett says, but he doesn’t quite meet her eyes. 

“Yeah,” Carrie says. She leans back against her pillows. “Let me know when I’m done being studied.”

~*~

Dr. Beckett proclaims her healthy, but he won’t tell her if she has whatever gene they were talking about in the briefing room. All he tells her is that her mysterious transportation didn’t appear to have any effect on her health and then he sends her off with Teyla. 

“Dr. Weir has set aside a room for you,” Teyla says. “I asked that you be near my quarters, I hope you don’t think that’s too presumptive of me.”

“I could use a friend,” Carrie says. She looks over at the other woman. “Unless that’s too presumptive of  _ me _ .”

Teyla smiles. “Not at all. Would you like a tour of the city?”

“Will you get in trouble for it?”

Teyla shrugs. “We won’t know that until we try.”

“Then sure,” Carrie says, “I’d love a tour of the city.”

“Where you first arrived is called the Gate Room,” Teyla tells her, turning left out of the infirmary. “You have seen a briefing room and the infirmary, but Atlantis is much bigger than that.”

Gate Room, Carrie wonders. That must be what that weird arch-circle thing was - a gate. She’s betting any more information on the gate probably falls under confidential so she doesn’t ask about it, even if she wants to know where it’s a gate to. Instead she follows Teyla into what looks like an elevator except when Teyla presses a touchpad it doesn’t rise or fall.

There’s a bit of a pause and then the doors open again.

“Transporter,” Teyla explains, and Carrie walks out of the little room - the  _ transporter  _ \- and stares because they’re in a different hallway then they just were.

“Woah,” Carrie says. “Atlantis is pretty high-tech then.”

“It is.”

They wander down a hallway, and Carrie turns in a circle as she follows Teyla, trying to see everything she can. “Is Athosia like this too?”

“Athosia?” Teyla asks.

“Is that not where the Athosians are from?” Carrie asks.

Teyla’s smile dims. “Athosians came from Athos, but our planet was lost to the Wraith.”

“Wraith?” 

“They’re a race of beings the prey upon others. Only me and a small number of my people were able to escape to Atlantis. We have lost much, but we are more fortunate than many.”

“Oh. I’m sorry. Um…”

Carrie loses her train of thought when they find a window, and Carrie runs over to it, pressing her face to the glass. 

“We’re not in space,” she says, a stupid observation, because  _ clearly  _ they’re not in space. She can see the peaks and points of what must be more of the city, but beyond that all she can see is water. It’s - “Oh. Atlantis.  _ Duh _ .”

“We reside on a planet,” Teyla says, “and Lantea is in space, but we’re not in a space station or a spaceship if that is what you believed.”

“I’m still not entirely convinced this isn’t some kind of prank,” Carrie says, unable to look away from all the water. Are they stranded in the middle of an ocean? Is there any other land on this planet? Are all the cities floating? Are they actually floating or are they tethered to the ground in some way? 

“Did you brother...prank you in this way often?” Teyla asks.

Carrie laughs. “No. He - humor wasn’t really his thing. He was always too busy. I was the annoying little sister who would check joke books out of the library and read them all to him, and then he’d explain why they were ridiculous and therefore not funny.”

“Ah,” Teyla says.

“Doesn’t matter,” Carrie tells her. “You said some other Athosians came here with you? Can I meet them?”

“Perhaps another time,” Teyla says. “They reside on the mainland, and I doubt you are allowed to leave the city right now.”

“So there’s more than just water on the planet,” Carrie says because that’s safer to focus on than the fact that she might be a prisoner here. 

“There is. My people rely heavily on agriculture for our livelihood, and they have found land here well suited to farming.”

“I know a bit about farming,” Carrie says. “I took a couple classes on efficient land use and how to keep from overusing soil. And a couple animal husbandry classes. You guys do livestock or just crops?”

“At the moment, crops. We have never had enough stability to have animals.”

“We should find you some,” Carrie says. “I mean, assuming I’m allowed to stay and I’m allowed to meet your people and, you know, allowed to help.”

“You can take classes on farming?” Teyla asks.

They start down the hallway again.

“Oh yeah,” Carrie answers. “I don’t know what you know about schools on Earth, but you can basically study anything you want. My brother studied mathematics and physics and probably a bunch of stuff I don’t even know, but you can study anything; English, other languages, um, architecture and history and even farming.”

“You go to schools for this knowledge?” Teyla asks. “You do not pass history on to all of your kind?”

“There’s too much of it,” Carrie says. “Most people have the basics of the world and a little more about whatever country they’re from but not even historians know everything. They tend to pick specializations and even then they can’t learn everything.”

“I cannot imagine having so much history you cannot know it all,” Teyla says. “Earth must know tremendous peace.”

“Eh,” Carrie says. 

The hallway they were in was lined with windows with beautiful views out of the cities but now the walls are lined with doors, and Teyla points to the second one of their right. “These are my quarters. Yours are next to mine.”

They go one door further and the doors slide open to reveal a roomier living space than Carrie had expected. For some reasons she was imagining college dorms with two beds and two dressers and two desks crammed into too small a space.

But this is more like an apartment than a dorm room. 

“Someone knew what they were doing when they designed this place,” Carrie says, going to investigate the bed.

“The Ancients were quite intelligent,” Teyla says. “Once you have viewed your quarters I will bring you to the mess. Do you have hypoglycemia like your brother?”

“No, and I’m not one to turn down food. Is there also a quartermaster or supply closet or something? I’m afraid I wasn’t prepared for a trip to outer space. All I’ve got is this.” She holds up her backpack. “And I’m afraid I don’t have a lot of clothes in my emergency pack.”

“This is some strange design,” Teyla says, stepping forward, her hand outstretched. She pauses before she actually touches Carrie’s backpack. “May I?”

“Sure,” Carrie says. “It’s solar paneling.”

“Solar paneling?” 

“Yeah, this was my main study on Earth - alternative energy. These panels here can take sunlight and convert it into energy. I can charge my laptop while walking or just put the energy into batteries to use later.”

Teyla’s hand continues to hover over Carrie’s backpack. “You can draw energy from the sun?”

“I can,” Carrie says, “and the ocean and the wind. Energy is all around us; the trick is learning how to harness it.”

“You do not fear you will drain the sun?”

Carrie shakes her head. “That’s the beauty of renewable energy. Solar energy doesn’t drain the sun, it just uses what the sun naturally gives out.”

“Incredible,” Teyla murmurs. “Will you tell me more of this over dinner?”

“I would love to,” Carrie says.

~*~

After a crash course in solar energy and dinner, Teyla brings Carrie to what appears to be a gym.

“My turn to teach you something,” Teyla says, pulling a pair of sticks from a shelf.

“Um,” Carrie says. “I’m think I’m experiencing jet lag. Or, you know, space transport-lag.”

“I will not harm you,” Teyla promises. “Much.”

“I’m not feeling very reassured,” Carrie says but she takes the sticks. “Is there a name for what we’re about to do or should I just call it an ass kicking?”

Teyla laughs as she retrieves another set of sticks. “We call it Bantos fighting. I find the act of exercise both fulfilling and relaxing.”

“I enjoy walking,” Carrie says. “And when I feel adventurous I go for a run. I don’t usually have,” she frowns down at the sticks, “weapons.”

“It will be good for you to learn the basics,” Teyla says.

“In case the Wraith come here?”

Teyla looks upset. “This will not save you if the Wraith come.”

“Right,” Carrie says. She takes a deep breath. “Let the ass kicking commence.”

~*~

Carrie wakes up the next morning hurting all over. 

“Ugh,” she says, rolling over onto her stomach.

This is what she gets for letting Teyla convince her to keep training until Carrie was sure she’d be able to turn her brain off and sleep. In Teyla’s defense, Carrie had fallen asleep as soon as she got back to her bed. But since the trade off is full-body hurt she’s not sure it’s worth it.

She hobbles into the shower and then changes into one of the outfits Teyla got for her last night. She’s glad they appear to be expedition clothing and not Athosian clothing. She thinks Teyla looks very nice in her outfits, but Carrie wasn’t allowed to wear crop tops as a teenager, and she’s pretty sure she’s too old to wear them now.

Teyla’s in the mess hall in one of her crop tops, a purple one that’s quite flattering, and she waves Carrie over when she sees her. 

“I am in so much pain right now,” Carrie says, easing herself into her seat. “And I’m putting all the blame firmly on your shoulders.”

“The pain means you have activated muscles that have long lay dormant,” Teyla says, “The only way to ensure that you get stronger is to keep activating them.”

“You just want to keep whacking me with your sticks.”

Teyla smiles. 

“Fine,” Carrie says. “I’ll keep training with you. Should I be careful how much I eat for breakfast? Do I have to worry about it coming back up?”

“After breakfast we have a meeting with Dr. Weir.”

“Oh?” Carrie asks.

“There is something I wish to discuss with her after our conversation yesterday. And we can see if there is an update on your status here.”

“My status here is very straightforward,” Carrie says. “Unwanted.”

“That’s not true,” Teyla says.

Carrie looks over, two tables away where her brother is bent over a tray with three cups of coffee and the same scrambled eggs Carrie has on her plate. She doesn’t think they’re chicken eggs, but they still taste good. 

She and Rodney made brief eye contact when she came in, but he didn’t even smile at her.

She thought after his message -

It doesn’t matter what she thought.

Rodney clearly doesn’t want her here, but she supposes the joke’s on him, because she’s not sure she’s going to be able to leave. 

“Do you know him at all?” Carrie asks.

Teyla follows her gaze. “Some but I would not say I know him well.”

Carrie laughs. “No one knows him well. He’s very careful to make sure of that. But you see him a lot?”

“We are on the same team,” Teyla says. “We work together when we leave Atlantis. Often when we are in the city, though, we’re in different places.”

“You know what’s wrong with him?” Carrie asks, casting another look at her brother’s table. “How bad it is?”

“I do not understand,” Teyla says. “He is sick?”

“Nevermind,” Carrie says. Maybe she can sneak away to the infirmary later and ask Dr. Beckett. He has to know what kind of disease her brother has, what’s made him so scared he found a way to send a message back to Earth to tell his sisters he wished he had more time with them.

Of course, now that Carrie’s here Rodney’s acting like he wishes she’d stayed on Earth so maybe he’s healed. Or maybe he hadn’t actually meant what was in the message. Maybe someone - Dr. Beckett, Major Sheppard, even Teyla maybe - told him that it’s customary to send a last goodbye to your loved ones, and he decided to try and be normal for once in his life. Maybe he hadn’t told the truth. Maybe -

Carrie pushes her plate away. She’s not sure she can stomach anything else.

“Your body used up quite a bit of energy yesterday,” Teyla says. “You should try to finish your breakfast.”

“Hmm,” Carrie says.

She’s debating whether or not to try and force the rest of it down - she doesn’t want to waste food but she also really, really doesn’t want to eat anymore - when Major Sheppard swings by their table.

“You done with this?” he asks picking up her plate.

“Yes,” she says even as Teyla says, “No.”

Sheppard pauses, a forkful of her eggs already halfway to his mouth. “Uh.”

“Please, finish it,” Carrie says. 

“Thanks.” Sheppard finishes her breakfast in three large bites. “So, ready for staff meeting part two?”

“Staff meeting?” Carrie asks. She looks over at Teyla. “I thought you said you were talking to Dr. Weir.”

Teyla sighs. “I wanted to speak to Dr. Weir about you, and I thought it would be prudent to have you there as you know more about yourself than I do.”

Carrie frowns. “And him?” she asks, pointing to Sheppard.

Sheppard grins. “Weir wanted all senior staff present. Apparently Teyla’s got a doozy of a presentation planned.”

“A presentation?” Carrie echoes. “About me?”

“We should go,” Teyla says.

“Oh yay,” Carrie says getting to her feet. “More secrets.”

“Welcome to Atlantis,” Sheppard says, clapping her on the back and then leading her out of the mess hall.

They go back to the same briefing room they used yesterday, but there’s a new person in the room. He’s in an expedition jumpsuit, complete with an American flag patch on his shoulder but unlike Dr. Weir and Rodney, he’s got a gun.

And, as soon as she walks through the doors, he trains it on her.

“Again?” she asks.

“Sergeant Bates, that is not necessary,” Major Sheppard says.

“I disagree,” Bates tells him. “And as Head of Security, I get to determine who on base is a threat and how to appropriately deal with them.”

Carrie doesn’t like how that sounds. She doesn’t like how that sounds one bit. 

“And as ranking military officer,” Sheppard says, stepping between her and Bates’s gun, “I said that’s not necessary.”

There’s a tense moment of silence as they two men stare each other down before Bates sits down, gun on the table, ready to be picked up and fired if necessary.

“Threat duly noted,” Carrie mutters. “I should’ve stayed home.”

Sheppard gives her a sad smile before pulling a chair out for her, but before she can ask him to explain, her brother comes barreling into the room.

“Again?” he asks spotting her. “I have actually important things I could be doing right now. I know that people often use ‘waste of time’ as an exaggeration or an ill-advised metaphor, but these meetings are a waste of time. They are a waste of my brain. They are -”

“Sit down, Rodney,” Sheppard says. “Teyla wants us all to talk so we’re going to talk.”

“ _ Meredith _ , is right,” Carrie says, because she’s had  _ enough _ . “These meetings are a waste of time and for someone who apparently doesn’t have a whole lot left, I can understand why he’s being sensitive about it.”

“Sensitive?” Rodney demands, puffing up like he can literally inflate his own ego.

“Just tell me what the hell’s wrong with you,” Carrie says, “and then I will sit on the floor of the Gate Room and wish myself back to Earth, because you clearly don’t want me here.”

“Of course I don’t want you here!” Rodney says, and Carrie flinches back, because being away from her brother for so long has clearly weakened her defenses against his bluntness.

“Hey now,” Sheppard says, holding a hand out towards each of them, like he’s afraid they’re going to lunge for each other. “Let’s have a nice, civilized talk.”

“I’m not sick,” Rodney says. “In retrospect, I can see why you’d get to that conclusion from the video message, but it’s not true. Why Jeannie didn’t tell you what the more likely reason for me sending it was, I don’t know. How you got here - I don’t know that either. What I do know is that it’s extremely likely that this entire planet is going to be wiped off existence in two weeks, and because in a moment of sentimentality and  _ weakness _ I sent you a message, you’re now going to die too. So yes,  _ Carrilynn _ , I don’t want you here. I don’t want you to die!”

There’s a stunned silence following Rodney’s speech, the only sound in the room Rodney’s heavy breathing as he tries to get himself back under control. He slowly deflates, cheeks pink and looking ashamed at his outburst.

“Oh my -” Carrie claps a hand over her mouth.

“It’s not as bad as he’s making it sound,” Sheppard says. “Really, it’s all a matter of -”

“You weren’t lying in the message,” Carrie says. She springs forward and throws her arms around her brother’s neck, hugging him even though she knows he’s not going to hug her back. “You really do care about us.”

“ _ That’s  _ what you got from my speech?” Rodney demands. He puts up with her hug for exactly three seconds before he starts squirming and trying to get away. “We’re all going to die. The Wraith are coming, and if you’re lucky they’ll kill you right away. It’ll be excruciating but it’ll be over fairly quick. If you’re not lucky then they’ll stash you in a cocoon and feed on you later.”

Carrie drops her arms and lets her brother scuttle over to the safety of a chair. 

“I believe Carrie can assist us in our war against the Wraith,” Teyla says, the only one in the room who looks unfazed by Rodney and Carrie’s outburst.

“War?” Carrie asks. “I think you’ve got the wrong woman. I don’t know anything about fighting. You saw that last night.”

“I also saw your backpack,” Teyla says. She turns her full focus on Dr. Weir. “Our greatest struggle at the moment is power.”

“Yes, yes,” Rodney interrupts. “Which is why we should have teams continuously searching for more ZPMs instead of having these meetings. And what does Carrie’s backpack have to do with anything?”

“Our shield needs to be at full strength before the Wraith arrive,” Teyla says, as if Rodney hadn’t spoken, “And Carrie knows how to turn the sun into power.”

“Not quite accurate,” Carrie says, “but I am an environmental engineer.”

Rodney scoffs.

Carrie rolls her eyes. “I know it’s not a ‘real enough’ science for you, but I enjoy it.”

“We can’t use solar power to power the shield,” Rodney says. “It would take too long. Can you even imagine how much power we’d have to harness? No because it’s not even imaginable.”

“What if it wasn’t just solar?” Carrie challenges, because nothing gets her fired up like her brother dismissing what she does. “We’re on an island and Teyla says there are land masses. What if we used hydro power? And tidal? And wind power? There are natural resources available to be used.”

“They’re nothing compared to what we need,” Rodney says.

“And compared to what you have now?” Carrie challenges. “If I could set up even one solar panel would you have more power by the end of the day than you would if we continued to sit here and argue?”

“You don’t even have security clearance!” Rodney says. “You’re not even supposed to be here.”

“But I am here,” Carrie says, leaning forward. “And I have a very specific skillset. To me it sounds like you’re desperate enough to take any help you can get.”

“You aren’t thinking this through,” Rodney says. “Presuming you have the ability to set up these networks on your own -” It’s Carrie’s turn to scoff - “And presuming we have the materials you’d need, you only know how to create electric power, and we need something far beyond that.”

“Zelenka,” Dr. Weir says.

“Zelenka doesn’t know anything about installing solar panels,” Rodney says.

“No, but he might know something about energy conversions,” Dr. Weir says. “Dr. Zelenka and Carrie will work together to try and figure out a way to make alternative energy sources viable for us. Because Carrie’s right, even if we can only get a little power that’s still more than we’ve got now.”

Carrie would like to claim that she’s the mature one of her siblings, would like to stand firm on the moral high ground, but instead she arches her eyebrows at her brother as if to say  _ see, she said I was right _ .

“Zelenka doesn’t have time for this either,” Rodney says. “The satellite -”

“We’ll get the satellite done,” Dr. Weir says. “But we’re going to pursue this angle.”

“Miss McKay is a hostile and an intruder,” Bates interjects. “You’re getting ahead of yourself.”

“Intruder, I’ll grant you,” Carrie says, because she did just kind of appear here. “But I’m not a hostile.”

“I have to agree,” Rodney says. “She cried when I dissected a chipmunk. She’s not going to hurt anyone.”

“I was  _ taming _ him,” Carrie says. “He was my pet!”

Rodney rolls his eyes. “You can’t tame wild animals, and he was going to bite your or give your rabies or something. I did you a favor and furthered my scientific studies by taking him apart.”

Carrie crosses her arms over her chest and glares.

“Alright,” Sheppard says, giving them both weird looks. “How about a compromise? Miss McKay is allowed to conduct her experiments, but she has a security detail with her at all times.”

“It’s Carrie,” Carrie says. “And what do you mean by ‘all times’?”

“Not in the shower,” Rodney tells her.

“Thanks.”

Bates sneers. “And you’re volunteering for the job, Major?”

“Of course not,” Sheppard says. “I’m the ranking military officer, and we’re preparing for war. Teyla can keep an eye on her.”

“That’ll put a quick end to our off world missions,” Rodney says.

“We need someone to work on the satellite,” Dr. Weir reminds him. “And Major Sheppard has his own duties to perform. I don’t anticipate there being many off world trips before the Wraith arrive.”

Bates clears his throat, loudly. “Miss McKay still doesn’t have the security clearance to be a part of these conversations.

“Miss McKay still wants to be called Carrie,” Carrie adds.

Bates’s eyes dip to his gun, and Carrie quickly shuts her mouth.

“It’s a fair point,” Dr. Weir says. “Both of your points. Teyla, please bring Carrie down to Zelenka’s labs to begin discussions on alternative energy sources.”

“My labs,” Rodney interjects.

“Atlantis’s labs,” Dr. Weir says, firm, before she turns back to Carrie. “Any help you can be, we will appreciate. And I’m sorry about the chaos. We’re in a bit of a bind here.”

“Also sorry that you’re probably going to die,” Rodney adds.

“He’s not much of an optimist,” Sheppard says, as if Carrie didn’t already know that about her brother.

“He’s not,” Carrie agrees, “but he is a realist, and I’ve never seen him up against a problem he wasn’t 100% sure he could solve.”

“Yes,” Rodney says, “but this is a little  _ bigger _ than anything I’ve been up against before. This is saving the world big.”

“Finally the right size for your brain then,” Carrie says. 

She can see Bates getting twitchy again, so she quickly scoots out of the briefing room. Hopefully she’ll have a chance to talk to her brother later. Maybe she can corner him in the mess and make him eat dinner with her. 


	3. Chapter 3

Radek Zelenka shoves his glasses further up the bridge of his nose before he shakes Carrie’s hand. He has the light grip of someone who’s been told shaking hands is something he should do but doesn’t really see the point. 

“Carrie McKay,” she says, and he drops her hand like she’s shocked him.

“There are more of you?” he asks before he realizes what’s he’s just said. “I mean -”

“It’s fine,” Carrie says. “I take it this means you’ve worked with my brother.”

“Dr. McKay and Dr. Zelenka are the two brightest minds on Atlantis,” Teyla says.

“I’m honored then,” Carrie says. “I just hope I’m not going to be drawing you away from more important work.”

“I’m in charge of finding a way to charge the ZPM while Dr. McKay searches for new ones. I’m afraid neither of us have had much success.”

“Well, I’ve got a few ideas,” Carrie says. “I’ve been talking with Teyla, and we’re going to scout a few places on the planet that look good for solar or wind set-ups. You know any ways to convert solar energy into something useful?”

“Useful to Atlantis?” Zelenka frowns. “Not at the moment, but I’m sure I can come up with something.”

“Good,” Carrie says. “You want to think in your lab or you want to come out to a building site and think?” 

“I -” Zelenka looks around at his machines and then says - “I have had no success here. Perhaps going elsewhere will help.”

“Fresh air’s never hurt anyone,” Carrie says with a smile.

~*~

“This is what you meant by fresh air?” Zelenka shouts, his voice barely heard over the wind.

Carrie’s in a harness, dangling from one of Atlantis’s spires as she begins installing the first solar panels. Teyla’s people are scouting for places on the mainland and along the shore for more building sites, but Zelenka, correctly, pointed out that the ideal situation is to have their power source as close to Atlantis as possible and, preferably, within the range of Atlantis’s shield.

You can’t get much closer than actually part of Atlantis.

There are three teams in charge of going to different addresses (planets, she reminds herself) and seeking out the resources she needs to make all the infrastructure she has planned. She would feel guilty for making so much extra work for them, but apparently if she doesn’t succeed in what she’s trying to do then there’s a good chance they’re all going to die.

No pressure, though.

“There’s a nice breeze,” she shouts back. “Any luck figuring how to tie the solar panels into the shield?”

“Into the shield!” Zelenka says, and he starts scribbling away in his notebook. “I was trying to convert solar energy into something that can be used by the ZPM, but if I bypass the ZPM entirely and go straight to the shield…”

He starts mumbling too quietly for her to hear so she leaves him to his breakthrough and goes back to screwing the newly made panels to the Lantean architecture. There are another two teams that have been paired with several of the civilian personnel to construct the solar panels.

The nice thing about bringing her laptop with her wherever she goes is that she has the blueprints for everything she’s been working on for the past ten years. 

Given enough time, they could get the biggest renewable energy source farm in the galaxy created.

Of course, given enough time they could do a lot of things, but time is the one thing they don’t have a lot of.

Time and weapons.

Carrie’s pretty useless on the weapons side of things, but there are a lot of really smart people here. Maybe they can find a way to weaponize energy. 

Her brother did make an atomic bomb for his sixth grade science project. 

~*~

“We are making progress,” Zelenka reports at the evening briefing that’s doubling as dinner.

Again, pressed for time.

Carrie can appreciate multitasking, though, and it’s not like she’s going to criticize the way they do things anyways. She’s the (dubiously?) welcome guest here. 

Rodney scoffs between bites of mashed potatoes. “I took a peek out my window. The city looks a lot uglier than it did yesterday.”

“And yet, we’re a lot safer than we were yesterday,” Carrie says before Zelenka can even draw breath to respond. “Funny how some people at this table prioritize safety over aesthetics.”

“Anyways,” Zelenka says, ignoring the two of them, “I can bypass the ZPM issue entirely by directly connecting the solar panels to the shield. As long as they are gathering energy then we can power the shield. Right now we still need to draw on the ZPM, because we cannot get enough energy but with more panels then I believe it could be possible.”

“Good,” Elizabeth says. “We’ll assign another two personnel to assist you. If we can find a way to boost the energy then we could theoretically self-power our shield.”

“Theoretically,” Zelenka says, but there is cautious optimism in his expression.

“Unless so many Wraith show up they block out the sun,” Rodney adds. 

“Which brings us to our offensive problem,” Sheppard says. “Don’t get me wrong, having a functioning, self-sustaining shield is much better than no shield, but we can’t play defense forever.”

“I agree,” Dr. Weir says. “Which is why we’re suspending the search for more ZPMs.”

“What?” Rodney demands. “We need those.”

“And if we get a credible lead on one we will pursue it,” Dr. Weir tells him. “But what we have is a functioning, if limited, power source at the moment. What we need is a way to destroy the Wraith, because John is right, we can’t hide behind our shield forever. Rodney, your new priority is to get that satellite up and running. It’s our first line of defense, and offense, against the Wraith. John, you and your team are shifting your priority to finding weapons.”

“I am on his team,” Rodney says. “How am I supposed to be in two places at once?”

“We know someone with weapons,” Sheppard says, ignoring him. 

Dr. Weir purses her lips. “The Genii are a last resort.”

“Fair enough,” Sheppard says. “Teyla and I will start our search tomorrow. And Rodney did have a point, he is part of our team.”

“You can pick a temporary member,” Dr. Weir tells him, “No Zelenka and no Rodney. Anyone else. And when Rodney’s finished with the satellite he can join you again.” Weir looks around the table. “Is there anything else to report?”

No one speaks.

“Well then,” she says. “I suggest everyone get to bed early tonight. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”

~*~

Carrie eats a quick breakfast with Teyla and Sheppard before they go to investigate a new world, and Carrie goes back to installing solar panels. She whistles as she works and wonders if there’s some way they can create floating solar farms. 

Back on Earth companies would buy up big plots of land to convert into solar farms, but Atlantis is a self-contained island. There just isn’t a whole lot of space to work with. The Athosians can create more traditional solar farms on the mainland, but if they want Atlantis to have all its energy sources contained within the shield then they’re going to have to get inventive. 

She’ll run the idea by Zelenka at lunch.

She also needs to stop in and see how the progression on turbine creation is going. There are enough spires on Atlantis and enough wind that they can set up a few turbines on the spires and yes, Rodney is right, it’s an eyesore, but if they can hold off the Wraith long enough then Carrie can work on finding more aesthetically pleasing ways to farm energy. 

Hell, given enough time, Carrie could find a way to create a sustainable planet.

It’s an environmentalist's wet dream, and she hopes that she’ll get to have a shot at it. And, while she’s dreaming, she lets herself think up ways to not only make the planet self-sustaining but how to also generate enough energy to extend the shield over the whole planet. And if she can do it here then why not other planets?

Athos could become home to the Athosians again.

They could create entire planets as sanctuaries from the Wraith. 

It’s - it’s an addictive thought, and Carrie thinks she understands her brother a little more. To have the ability to fix problems on such a large scale, to be able to maybe rescue thousands and thousands of people? It’s a heady feeling.

It’s enough to give a person a complex. 

~*~

“Floating solar farms,” she tells Zelenka at lunch. “Connected to Atlantis so we can draw power from them. But somehow protected from waves.”

Zelenka points his fork at her, a piece of meat still on the tines. “Platforms above Atlantis. Like -” he motions with his hands as he searches for words - “an awning or covering. Something that people can walk beneath but the top is covered in panels. No water damage.”

“Smart man,” Carrie says, reaching for her tablet. 

She writes down the idea and then pulls up the city plans. It looks a little like a snowflake, but if a snowflake had skyscrapers coming up out of the middle. Her point is that all the points of the snowflake, they can build raised platforms over all those and put solar panels on them.

Hell, with Lantean technology they might even be able to create  _ floating _ platforms. That could...that could change everything. Portable, flyable energy sources.

If only they had more  _ time _ .

She writes the idea down in hopes that later she’ll get to pursue it. If they could create a fold-up, flying solar farm or even wind farm? They could send it to communities in crisis and then bring it back to the city once they community got themselves sorted. THey could bring it to other planets to get a jump start on creating a new home there. They could have something to trade with. 

“You’re having an idea,” Zelenka says. “I know that look. Your brother wears it quite often.”

“I’m having a genius moment,” she says. “I’m kinda really hoping we don’t die, because there are things I want to invent.”

Zelenka laughs. “Yes, you are definitely a McKay.”

It sounds like a compliment (rare, because it almost never does) and Carrie smiles at him.

Their moment is interrupted when, a few tables over, Dr. Beckett stands up so fast he almost knocks his tray off the table. He touches his ear - he must be wearing one of the communication devices the rest of the senior team wears - and then rushes out of the room.

“Uh oh,” Zelenka says.

“Yeah,” Carrie agrees. Anytime a medical doctor leaves a room that fast is never a good thing.

~*~

It doesn’t take a genius of her brother’s caliber to realize that the man Teyla brings to dinner had something to do with Beckett’s hasty departure. The man is, well, he’s tall. And he’s got more muscle than Carrie’s seen on any member of the Atlantis expedition. Which means the only question is if Beckett left to help him or help someone he hurt.

There’re three security guards following the man into the mess so it could go either way.

Teyla, Sheppard, and mystery man come join Carrie at her table.

“You mind?” Sheppard asks.

Teyla just sits down and motions her new (friend? charity case?) to sit down as well.

“The more the merrier,” Carrie says. “Um,” she looks from mystery man to the three guards who have their hands resting on their guns, “Guess I’m not the most dangerous person on Atlantis anymore.”

“You?” the man asks, looking her over with obvious disregard. “What danger did you present?”

“None,” she answers. “Which made the guns kind of scary.”

The man throws a derisive look over his shoulder. “These men do not scare me.”

Right, Carrie thinks. She holds a hand out over the table. “Carrie. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Is it?” the man asks, touching her hand briefly before picking up his mashed potatoes with his fingers. “I don’t scare you as well?”

Carrie’s Canadian politeness fails her here. “Um,” she says, not sure how to respond to that.

Teyla sighs. “Carrie, this is Ronon Dex. We found him on the planet we investigated today. He is a skilled hunter of the Wraith.”

“Ah,” Carrie says, trying not to stare as Ronon crams food into his mouth. “I’m glad?”

“Carrie is in charge of energy production,” Teyla tells Ronon.

Ronon finishes his plate and looks over at Carrie’s. She pushes it over to him, and he digs into that as well. 

“Are you injured?” she asks and all three other occupants of her table stop to stare at her. “Um, bad question?”

“What makes you think he’s hurt?” Sheppard asks.

“Beckett ran out of lunch in a hurry,” she says. “I guess there are probably a lot of teams off world, but my first thought was you guys.”

“The Wraith put a tracker in me,” Ronon tells her. “Your doctor removed it.”

“Oh,” she says and then falters. This is probably why no one tapped her for a space adventure - she’s not very good at small talk with aliens. 

“My planet was destroyed,” Ronon tells her. “The Wraith thought to hunt me for sport. I have turned the tables on them.”

“He’s going to help train our teams,” Sheppard says. “And maybe let us take a look at his gun. It packs quite the punch.”

“Well,” Carrie says. Her dinner has gone to someone who needs it more than she does, and she’s got nothing to contribute to a talk about weapons. “I’ve got a meeting with Burakovsky so I’ll catch you all later.”

“Burakovsky?” Sheppard asks. “The Swede?”

“He’s an architect and structural engineer,” Carrie says, “We’ve got some ideas for new solar panel placement. We’re hoping to test the shield in the next few days which means I want to get as many panels functional as possible.”

“And you’re building something?” Sheppard asks.

“Yeah. The spokes on your snowflake city are apparently for spaceship parking and repair but since we don’t have any spaceships we’re going to build up over them and create rooftop solar farms. Enough space to fly the jumpers out, obviously.”

“Huh,” Sheppard says. “Mind if I join you?”  

“Uh, sure,” she says. “It’s probably going to be pretty boring.”

Sheppard shrugs. “After the day we had, I wouldn’t mind a little boring.”

“Alright then,” she says. She turns to Teyla and Ronon. “I’ll see you at breakfast, maybe?”

“Early again,” Teyla says. “We’ve got another planet to visit tomorrow. Ronon’s coming with us.”

Bates is going to love that, Carrie thinks. What she says, though, is, “I’m not sure that’s what Dr. Weir meant when she said you could add anyone you wanted to your team.”

“Anyone but Zelenka or Rodney,” Sheppard reminds her. “Ronon isn’t Zelenka or Rodney.”

Sheppard grins, boyish and pleased with himself for his cleverness. Carrie can’t help her answering smile, even as she tries to turn it into a frown. She’s pretty sure she isn’t supposed to be encouraging him.

~*~

They meet with Burakovsky; well, Carrie meets with Burakovsky while Sheppard wanders around his office, poking at the 3D diagrams of Atlantis Burakovsky’s made and making comments about Legos. 

“So you think we can do it?” Carrie asks at the end of their meeting. “I thought about floating rafts, but that runs the risk of saltwater exposure or even sinking.”

“This is a much better plan,” Burakovsky agrees. “The main problem, of course, is time.”

Always time, she thinks. “Dr. Weir says the Athosians have agreed to help. We should have enough bodies. And Zelenka says we have enough materials. For both the platform construction and the solar panels themselves.”

“Are you able to gather enough power to be usable?” Burakovsky asks. 

“We think so. We don’t know yet.”

“Well, I’ll come out to the first site tomorrow,” Burakovsky says, “Make sure everything’s up to code as we start building. I hope you and Dr. Weir realize that they structure isn’t going to be completely sound. Being in such a rush -”

“I know,” Carrie says. “Right now we’re going for quantity not quality. I’m hoping we’ll get a chance to make things more permanent, but,” she shrugs in a way that’s supposed convey  _ we might die so… _

Burakovsky tuts his tongue. 

“Well, this was a nice chat,” Sheppard says. “But we’ve got to go now.”

“Oh?” Carrie asks. She didn’t realize they were on any kind of a schedule.

“I want to get a look at the building site,” he says, “Since, you know, I won’t be here in the morning.”

“You want to look at it?” she asks even as she gets up and puts her things back in her backpack.

“Yep. And we’re running out of daylight.”

Sheppard’s being odd, but she supposes the fact that he came here at all was kind of odd so she just slings her backpack over her shoulder and follows him out of Burakovsky’s room and then out to one of the repair pads. 

It’s a bit of a walk because the city (spaceship?) is large, but the sun’s just beginning to set, and the sky is a beautiful array of colors which makes it an enjoyable walk. She hasn’t had much time to appreciate how amazing Atlantis is, and she’s glad for the chance to do it now.

“It’s beautiful,” she tells Sheppard before going to the edge of the city to look at where the water laps gently at the side of it. 

“Mm,” he agrees. 

She looks down at the water and decides she’s too high up to risk trying to dip her toes in (probably wouldn’t be good to fall off Atlantis). She hears the crinkle of plastic and turns to see Sheppard opening a protein bar.

“Want some?” he asks, holding it out. “You didn’t finish your dinner.”

She breaks off a piece. “Thanks,” she says. She’s looking at the sunset and chewing on her protein bar when she realizes what they’re doing. Sharing food, looking at a view. “Is this a date?” she asks.

“No,” Sheppard tells her quickly, looking affronted, like she’s somehow insulted him by suggesting it.

Her protein bar feels like a rock in her stomach as she forces herself to swallow it. That - she’s not upset that this isn’t a date. She’s a little upset that he looks horrified that they might’ve been on a date. She tells herself it doesn’t matter. There’s a good chance her future is extremely limited. No need to waste time dating.

“Wait,” Sheppard says, “That’s not - what I meant is that if I was going to take you on a date I’d pack a better picnic than protein bars.”

“Oh,” she says. So he might want to date her? In the future? The future they might not have because of the Wraith?

“I’m not very good at this,” Sheppard says.

“No, you’re not,” she agrees. “The sunset’s nice, though. Thank you for bringing me out to see it.”

“I’ll bring real food next time,” he says.

He’s standing next to her, their arms almost touching. “And then it’ll be a date?” she asks.

“Yeah,” he answers, catching her eyes for a moment before looking away, like he’s shy.

She finds it endearing. “Too bad  _ this  _ isn’t a date,” she says.

He makes eye contact again. “Oh?”

“I was going to let you walk me back to my quarters,” she tells him.

“I’d do that regardless.”

“Yeah but if it was a date then I’d kiss you when we got there,” she says.

She smiles as a blush creeps up his cheeks. 

“Is it too late to change my mind?” he asks. 

“Guess you’ll have to walk me to my door and find out.”

He eyes her for a moment, like he’s trying to suss out whether or not this is a trap, but then he shrugs and holds out his arm.

“Getting fancy on me,” she says, looping her arm around his.

“Have to make up for the power bar.”

She moves closer to him, partly because the temperature has dropped with the sun, but also because he seems open not only to the concept of dating but also kissing. She wonders if he’s a cuddler. She hopes he is. 

They’re almost to their room when they come across Rodney in the hall, and they pass by each other before her brother realizes what he’s just seen. Carrie’s debating whether she can drag Sheppard into her room before Rodney can stop them.

“Um,” Rodney says. He backs up until he’s in their field of vision again. 

“Hey,” Carrie says, like she’s not walking arm-in-arm with one of the members of Rodney’s off world team. “Surprised you’re not still in your office.”

Rodney points to her and then to Sheppard and then back to her.

“We were looking at the sunset,” Carrie says. “It’s still quite beautiful if you want to catch a glimpse.”

“You were…” Rodney looks between them like he still can’t believe what he’s seeing. “...Looking at the sunset?” He shakes himself. “Not important. Major Sheppard, I need to talk to you about tomorrow’s mission.”

Sheppard reluctantly untangles his arm from Carrie’s. “We’re not replacing you if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Rodney scoffs. “It would be impossible to replace me. That’s not what I’m worried about. I glanced over the planet’s stats, and I think there could be useful materials there.”

“For explosives?” Sheppard asks.

Carrie takes that as her cue to leave. She waves to her brother and Sheppard - John - she can call him John now that they’ve been on a quasi-date. She’s more than happy to help with their energy problems, but she’s not crazy about the whole weapons thing. Too many guns pointed at her in the past week.

And her brother developing an atomic bomb when they were children.

There are some things you never recover from.


	4. Chapter 4

She only sees John briefly the next morning. She has a long day of construction ahead of her, and he’s apparently waiting for Rodney to make some last adjustments to the satellite before their team goes off world together. 

She’s a little intrigued about what other planets are like, but she’ll hopefully get a chance to see that later. For now, she’s got a city to power up.

Teyla wants to see what Carrie’s doing, and she brings Ronon with her which means Carrie also brings three security guards with her to her building site. Bates is one of them, but so is Lieutenant Ford, and he doesn’t seem to be so bad.

The Athosians that will be helping them today haven’t arrived yet, but Burakovsky is there, puttering around the space they’re going to be building on and frowning at a device in his hands. 

“Is it not as sound as we thought?” Carrie asks, coming to look over his shoulder.

She doesn’t understand what the blinking dots on the screen mean. 

“Something strange,” Burakovsky says. “This is a life signs detector.”

Well, that explains the dots. Only, “Is there an extra one?” she asks.

“I think so,” he says. “But this part of city hasn’t been cleared yet, there’s still damage from the initial flooding. There  _ shouldn’t _ be anyone besides us.”

“Did I hear there’s unauthorized personnel in the area?” Bates asks, unstrapping his gun as he approaches. 

“Um,” Burakovsky says, handing the device over. “Maybe? I didn’t want to investigate on my own. In case.”

“In case of what?” Carrie asks. “Are there hostiles on the planet?”

She takes a step closer to Lieutenant Ford. He seems like a guy who can hold his own in a fight. 

“You did mention that the Wraith did a flyby of the planet,” Ronon says and he pulls what looks like a gun, but not an Earth gun, out of his waistband. 

“Um,” Carrie says. Maybe they should work on a different part of the city. 

“Yeah,” Bates says, “A  _ flyby _ . Suicide trip. Scanned the city and then self-destructed.”

“Idiots,” Ronon says and Bates bristles. “The Wraith have teleport beams that can pull people off planets, but they work in reverse. They can beam someone from a ship down to a surface.”

“Oh shit,” Ford says.

“There’s a Wraith in Atlantis?” Teyla asks. She reaches for the Bantos sticks she keeps strapped to her waist.

Oh yeah, Carrie thinks, definitely time to go somewhere else.

“Not for long,” Bates says. “Ford, Donahoe you’re with me.”

“I can dispatch him quicker than you,” Ronon says.

“Stay and protect the brains,” Bates says. “We’ll be back in no time.”

Ronon looks like he’s going to argue, and Carrie shifts closer to him. “I know it’s not as glamorous, but I appreciate the protecting. I’m sure Burakovsky does too.”

Burakovsky looks at Ronon’s massive arms and then at his alien-gun and nods. “Yep. We definitely want you to stay with us.”

Ronon frowns but he doesn’t argue further as Bates takes his team down to a hatch that’ll let them beneath the area they’re standing on. 

“We’ll keep in contact,” Ford promises. “Let Dr. Weir know what’s going on.”

“I will,” Teyla promises. “Happy hunting.”

Ford gives her a salute and then follows Donahoe down into the city.

As soon as the three soldiers have gone into the city, Carrie looks over at Teyla. “What do we do now?”

“We wait,” Teyla answers. 

“I don’t like waiting,” Ronon says. “I’d much rather be hunting.”

“I’d much rather be somewhere else,” Burakovsky says. He looks at the hatch the others went through and takes a couple big steps back like he’s afraid something’s going to pop out of it. “Maybe we should take an early lunch break.”

“You will be fine,” Teyla promises. “Sergeant Bates and his men will find the Wraith and dispose of him.”

Carrie and Burakovsky are looking over their building supplies when Carrie hears the slam of metal, and she turns to see... _ something _ emerge from a different hatch. It has pale skin and even paler hair and when it locks eyes with her it hisses, the sound inhuman and sending shivers down her spine.

Carrie takes a giant step back and knocks into Burakovsky who catches her and then looks at what’s startled her and then  _ he  _ stumbles back.

“Wraith?” Carrie asks, as Teyla and Ronon leap in front of them, weapons drawn.

“Yeah,” Burakovsky says, voice shaking. “I - I’ve never seen one in person before.”

The Wraith is hit by a blast from Ronon’s gun and it hisses again, showing a mouth full of pointy teeth.

Before Ronon can fire again, the Wraith is moving, lightning fast, and Carrie wants to scream or maybe run, but she’s frozen in place, unable to move as Teyla charges the creature, swinging her sticks. She catches the Wraith on the side of the head with one stick and then blocks its answering swing with the other. They begin a complicated pattern of attacking and blocking that Carrie gets transfixed by.

She doesn’t even notice Ronon’s moved until he shoots the creature between the eyes.

It fall onto its back and doesn't move.

Teyla pokes is with one of her sticks.

Ronon kicks it in the side.

“Dead,” he proclaims just as Bates and his team emerge from the hatch.

“It got away from us,” Ford says, looking down at its body.

“Clearly,” Ronon says. “Fortunate that you left us behind.”

“Thank you,” Carrie says, her voice finally returning. She still can’t take her eyes off the creature on the ground. She’d be dead if it weren’t for Teyla and Ronon. One Wraith had gotten away from three trained soldiers. She doesn’t want to imagine what an invasion of them would be like.

“We should get to work,” Carrie says, tearing her eyes away from the Wraith. “I’m feeling some renewed motivation to figure out how to power this shield.”

‘Yeah,” Burakovsky says, still stunned. “There aren’t anymore of these lurking around, right?”

“We didn’t know this one was here,” Ford says. “So I wouldn’t bank on it. But we’ll do a sweep of the city, make sure it’s clear.”

“So, you’re staying with us?” Burakovsky asks Ronon. “Just in case?”

“I’ll assemble a team for you,” Bates says.

Carrie would prefer Teyla and Ronon as bodyguards, but she's sure they have better things to do than babysit a construction process.

“I’ll be a part of it,” Ford says. “This isn’t my first tangle with the Wraith.”

Burakovsky’s still looking at Ronon, probably imagining how useful he could’ve been both for protection and for construction. 

“Thank you,” Carrie says. She nudges Burakovsky who echoes the sentiment. “Ready to get started?”

“Our work team isn’t here,” Burakovsky says. 

Carrie glances at the Wraith body that’s still on the ground, only fifteen feet away from them. She and Burakovsky won’t be able to make a lot of progress on their own, but she’s firmly in the ‘any progress is good’ camp after that scare. 

“We’ve got the two of us,” she says. “We can at least start unpacking and laying out where everything’s going to go.

“Yeah,” Burakovsky says. He glances at the Wraith and then hurries over to their first crate of supplies. 

“I can help,” Ford volunteers. “Donahoe too.”

“I need to report to Weir,” Bates says. He turns a critical eye on Teyla and Ronon. “And I believe Major Sheppard was looking for you.”

“Of course,” Teyla says, speaking before Ronon can say something that will probably make Bates mad. “We wish you the best of luck with your hunt.”

She and Ronon leave and, once they’re out of sight, Bates leaves too, and then it’s just Carrie, Burakovsky and the two remaining soldiers. 

“So,” Carrie says, looking from their construction materials to Ford and Donahoe. “Who wants to help us lift heavy things?”

~*~

They get solar platforms built on two of the points of the snowflakes, and they work until it’s dark, eating lunch in shifts so there’s never a time they’re not working. When they’re finally finished for the day, Carrie’s exhausted and sweaty and desperately needs a shower or, at the very least, to reapply her deodorant. 

She’s also ravenous but shower comes first. She doesn’t want to see anyone until the dirt and grime of the day is gone. She showers until she feels clean and then she changes into long pants and long sleeves, and she’s ready to see how late the mess is open.

Only, when her doors slide open to let her out, she almost walks straight into her brother.

“Uh,” she says.

Rodney, who’d been standing outside her door startles and then tries to act like  _ she’s _ the one being weird. “Fancy seeing you here,” he says, awkward, twisting his hands in front of him.

“In front of my room?” she asks. “Can’t imagine why you’d see me here.”

“Oh.” Rodney looks around like he’d forgotten where he was. “Right. Guess that makes sense.” He laughs, a little uncomfortable.

She decides to take pity on him. “Please tell me that the mess is still open. Or that you’ve got a snack in your pocket. Maybe one of those protein things John carries around. I’m not sure I’m going to make it to the mess without eating something.”

“Don’t you know who you’re talking to?” Rodney asks, digging through the pockets of his cargo pants. “I don’t go anywhere without food.”

He pulls out two protein bars and a chocolate bar. 

“You’re the best,” she says, snatching a protein bar and the chocolate bar. “You have no idea how hungry I am.”

She devours the protein bar in three bites and then she realizes that she and her brother are just standing in the doorway to her quarters as she stuffs her face. 

“Uh, you wanna come in?” she asks. “Or do you want to help me find more food?”

Rodney hands her his second power bar. 

“I can’t take all your reserve snacks,” she says. “We both know how you get cranky when you don’t eat.”

“I can easily get more,” Rodney says. He steps into her room, the doors sliding shut behind him. “So you had a good day?”

He paces a bit, walking near her bed then her little table then her desk before she pulls out a chair for him to sit in. He sinks into it, grateful.

“We did what we wanted,” she says. “We need to build up some energy before we can test and see if it works. So if you want to keep your fingers crossed for me I won’t say no.” She smiles and unwraps her second power bar. “It was super awesome that the Athosians came to help. We definitely wouldn’t have made as much progress without them.”

Rodney nods a few times.

“Good day for you guys too?” Carrie asks. “Or are you not allowed to talk about it?”

“Today was fine,” Rodney says. “Good, actually. We found some explosive material which is good, because the last thing we need is to defeat the Wraith by being indebted to the Genii. Sheppard and Ronon are with some of the engineers to figure out what to do with the explosives now that we have them, but they’re weapon guys, I’m sure they’ll figure it out.”

“You’re not with them?” Carrie asks. She unwraps her chocolate bar and breaks off the first piece, noticing the way her brother’s eyes dip to the chocolate. “I didn’t realize anything in this city could get done without that big brain of yours.”

“Yes, ha ha,” Rodney says. “I offered my help, but when we checked in we heard that there was a bit of a...incident this morning.”

The Wraith. Carrie can’t believe that was this morning. Some more soldiers came to take the body away and then the Athosians arrived and then it was work, work, work, and she hadn’t had time to think about the attack or the Wraith or anything but making sure the solar equipment was set-up and connected right. 

“Yeah,” she says, sagging back in her seat. “It was - it was something. You’ve seen them before? The Wraith, I mean?”

He nods. “Not my favorite aliens we’ve seen.”

“Yeah. I guess I can see why your video message to me was the way it was. It took a lot of people to take down just one of them. A whole army of them…” Carrie trails off and snaps off another piece of chocolate, like somehow that’s enough to combat her fear. 

Rodney nods. “We’re doing everything we can, but I’m not sure it’s going to be enough. I wish -” He shakes himself. “Well, wishing is stupid, isn’t it? Can’t change anything.”

Carrie can guess what he was going to say. He was going to wish that he hadn’t sent the video or that he’d given a different message. He was going to wish that she never ended up here. 

“You’re right,” Carrie says, “We can’t change anything’s that happened. And you know what? I wouldn’t change it even if we could.”

Rodney’s head jerks up, confusion written plainly across his face. “But you’re scared.”

“Of course I’m scared,” she says. Honestly, scared doesn’t even cover it. More like terrified. But, “If you hadn’t sent that message then I never would’ve known -” here, she falters. They’ve never been an open family, never been the kind to throw around emotions or words and even here when they could very well end up dead she’s struggling to tell her brother how she feels about him.

She remembers the message Rodney had sent her, how much it had meant to her, and if he can be brave enough to say what he said then she can be brave too. 

“I would never want you to be out here alone,” she says. “And before you say it - I know you’re not alone. But it’s different being surrounded by scientists and soldiers and having your family here.”

“So you’d rather we both die here then I die here alone?” Rodney asks.

“I’d rather we both don’t die,” Carrie says.

She doesn’t want the Wraith to invade, and she doesn’t want any of the people she’s met to be snatched away or killed. 

“I thought we said we weren’t wishing,” Rodney says.

She snaps off another piece of chocolate. “I don’t need to wish,” she says. Maybe it was a bad idea for her to come here (not that she’d really planned on coming here or even known what here was when she showed up) but she is here. And it’s not going to do anyone any good if she has a panic attack, and it  _ definitely  _ won’t be good if Rodney has a break down. “You’re the smartest person I know. And you’re one of the smartest people on Earth. You’re probably one of the smartest people in the whole damn galaxy. There isn’t anything you can’t solve.”

“Your faith is flattering,” he says, “but misplaced.”

She shakes her head. “This expedition wouldn’t have gotten as far as it has without you. And you’ve never let anyone tell you you can’t do something. You’ve been standing up to bullies since you were a kid. Hell, remember when you threatened Travis Kane with an atomic bomb because he stole your lunch every day for a week, and you weren’t big enough to fight him for it with your fists?”

Rodney flushes, pleased and embarrassed. “A bit of an overreaction, I think.”

“Yeah, but that means you’ve got a hell of a whammy planned for the Wraith.”

“Hell of a whammy?” Rodney asks, trying not to smile.

Carrie shrugs. “Whatever. Shut up. The point is, I believe in you. And I’ve never known you not to believe in yourself which means there are at least two people in this city who believe in you.”

Rodney fixes her with a look. “You suck at pep talks.”

“I said ‘at least two’. That means there could be more.”

He continues to look unimpressed.

She huffs and breaks off three squares of chocolate for him. “We can do this,” she says. “You and me and Dr. Weir and Major Sheppard and Teyla and Ronon and everyone. There are enough brains in this city to figure out how to save us.”

He looks at his squares of chocolate and then at the remainder of the bar. “I only get three?”

She smacks his arm. “One, I haven’t eaten dinner yet. Two, I was trying be inspirational!” 

“Sorry,” Rodney says, but he doesn’t look away from the chocolate.

She hands the rest of the bar over. “I guess we’re done with our heart-to-heart. Take me to the mess hall now since you’re eating all of my dinner.”

“It was my chocolate bar!” he says, but he does walk her down to the mess hall and even sits with her while she eats dinner. 

There aren’t any confession like on the tape, and they don’t hug or cry on each other or have any big outbursts of emotion but at the end of the night she feels better about where things are between them than she has in years. 

Now they just have to survive the upcoming fight.

~*~

First thing after breakfast, Carrie, Burakovsky, Ronon, and Sheppard go down to the solar platform they built yesterday. Teyla and Rodney are with Dr. Weir in the control room waiting to test the shield and whether it can be powered by solar energy. 

Carrie and Burakovsky check over the work they did yesterday, make sure the wiring’s all good and then Carrie turns to Sheppard. “I think we’re good to try it.”

“You think?” Sheppard asks. “As in it could work or it could blow us all up?”

“You spend too much time with my brother,” she says, “Tell them we’re ready to test.”

Sheppard, still looking wary, presses a button on vest. “Weir, this is Sheppard. We’re ready for you to power up the shield.”

“Acknowledged,” Weir says, voice crackling through the radio. 

There’s a moment of terse silence and then around them the shield comes to life, covering the whole city and reaching down into the water. It’s a shimmering wall of energy, and Carrie breaks into a wide smile, heart soaring in her chest, because they did it. They can power the shield.

“It’s working on our end,” Sheppard says, concern replaced by awe. “How’s it looking on yours?”

“Tell them to start working on the next platform,” Weir says. “We can make this work.”

Carrie makes a sound of unreserved glee and throws her arms around the person nearest her. Sheppard stumbles back, not expecting the hug before he hugs her back just as tight, laughing and lifting her off her feet. He swings her around twice before he puts her back on the ground.

“Nice work,” he tells her.

“Yeah, yeah,” Rodney says through the radio. “Party later. We’ve got a shield but that’s only defense. We need to get to work on offense.”

Carrie’s still in John’s arms so she presses the button on his radio. “That’s your division, not mine.”

“Alright,” John says, stepping away from her, brushing off his vest. “He’s right. We’ve got work to do. Keep up the good job on your end.”

“Thanks,” Carrie says.

She turns to Burakovsky - he should be sharing in the praise too - only to see him still entangled with Ronon. It looks like he had the same plan she did, hug the nearest person, only he’d been right next to Ronon.

“Um,” Burakovsky says. He takes two hurried steps back. “Right. Gates. Fighting. You guys do that. We’ll keep doing our thing.”

Ronon brushes his shoulders off, like he’s trying to get rid of the feeling of being hugged. 

“The Athosians will be here soon,” John says. “We can stick around and help out until they get here.”

“Go,” Carrie says. “We’ll do set-up until they get here. If we’re as productive as yesterday then we can get another two set up which’ll leave one for tomorrow plus tune-up and adding as many extra panels as we can to the others.”

“Good,” John says. He hesitates for a moment, awkward now that they’ve covered everything.

Carrie gives him a little push towards the walkway that’ll take him back to Atlantis. “Go,” she says again. “Be back in time for dinner.”

“Yes ma’am,” John says, giving her a dorky salute before he and Ronon head back to the city. 

Burakovsky waits until they’re out of earshot before he says, “Wow.  _ Be back in time for dinner?  _ Really?”

She flushes. “Not my best line. I know. I panicked a little bit. It’s the eyes. I get lost in them sometimes.”

“Please stop,” Burakovsky begs. “I do not want to talk feelings with you.”

“Great,” Carrie says in a rush of air. “Let’s talk about anything else. Literally, anything.” She looks around. “Um, the sky is very blue today. No clouds. That’s nice.”

“Oh my goodness,” Burakovsky says. “Let’s just not talk.”

She nods. She can do that. She can be quiet. She starts digging through the materials they left out yesterday so they’re be ready when the Athosians arrive.

~*~

They finish before they did yesterday, and Carrie invites all the Athosians to the mess with them for celebratory Jello.

“That was my favorite part of being in the city,” Marek says, trailing Carrie as they troop into the main part of the city together. “Do you think I can bring some back for Wex and Jinto? They were too young to come build with us, but they enjoy Jello too.”

Carrie looks to Burakovsky. She doesn’t know the city’s policy on Jello exports.

Burakovsky shrugs.

“Sure,” Carrie says and Marek whoops and runs the rest of the way to the mess.

“How was  _ he  _ old enough to come help?” Burakovsky asks, shaking his head as Marek disappears around a corner.

“Don’t be jealous just because he has more energy than us,” Carrie says. She finds the least dirty spot on her shirt and uses it to wipe her face. She wishes they’d had time for showers or something before dinner. They’re all dirty and stink of sweat. At least they won’t judge each other for the smell since they’re all in the same boat. 

Of course, as soon as they reach the mess, Carrie sees her brother and his team sitting at a table together, and she remembers telling John to be back in time for dinner.

“Aw, crap,” she says, as John’s face lights up when he sees her. 

Burakovsky just laughs and abandons her to her fate. 

She thinks uncharitable thoughts about him as she fills a tray up with food and then makes her way over to where John’s already pulled up a chair for her at their table. 

“Good day?” he asks when she gets there. He doesn’t wrinkle his nose or scoot away from her so maybe she doesn’t smell as bad as she thought. Or, more likely, as a military guy he’s used to running around and sweating. 

“Successful,” she says. “You guys?”

John practically beams as he nods. “We’ve found explosives, material to make explosives, and a cache of drones that we were able to trade for. Which means we have a way to fight back now.”

“And,” Rodney says, jumping into the conversation. “We don’t need the Genii’s help.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Sheppard says, chugging half of his water in one go. 

Teyla and Ronon raise their glasses too, and Carrie doesn’t know who the Genii are, but the table’s cheer is contagious so she lifts her water glass to join theirs. 

They talk a little bit about the mission and a little bit about the solar farm construction before Teyla says, “Let us talk of something else for a time.”

“Like what?” Ronon asks.

“I know,” John says, turning to Carrie. “Tell us an embarrassing story about Rodney.”

“Really?” Rodney groans.

“Yes,” Teyla says, leaning in. “You must have many stories you can share with us. Your brother is not...the most forthcoming.”

“I’m sure he’s not,” Carrie says. She glances over at Rodney who huffs and rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t tell her she can’t say anything so she leans forward in her seat. “Alright then. My brother and sister were too smart to really fit in when we were growing up, and I got pulled into their reputation.”

“You’re smart too,” Rodney says loyally. And then he goes and ruins it by adding, “I mean, obviously not on my level and not even on Jeannie’s but -”

“Yes,” Carrie says, interrupting him. “Thank you. Back to the story. Our parents decided I was their only hope for a ‘normal’ kid.” Rodney laughs. She kicks him under the table. “So they made me sign up for all these clubs and stuff. During school, we’d get teased but there were other kids around and a lot of teachers to make sure nothing really bad happened, you know?”

John nods like he knows a thing or two about bullying. Ronon and Teyla don’t seem to understand, but Carrie chalks that up to cultural differences in terms of schooling.

“After school was a whole different story,” Carrie says. “Less teachers, less supervision. Anyways, I was in environmental club which was actually pretty cool until they decided that instead of fundraising by selling cookie dough and fruit baskets we should just win the schoolwide dodgeball tournament.”

“Uh oh,” John says. 

“Yeah,” she agrees. There was no one in her club that was athletic by anyone’s stretch of the definition but apparently Amanda struck a deal with a couple of the other clubs, that they would let the environmental team beat their team if they got to pelt Carrie with dodgeballs first. 

She still doesn’t understand why everyone hated her. Rodney could definitely get on people’s nerves, and Jeannie had most of his unlikable qualities plus a chip on her shoulder because she wanted to be better than him, but Carrie worked hard at presenting herself as average.

Okay, maybe she scolded some people for being mean to her siblings. And maybe she forged some notes home to the parents of the worst bullies. And yes, maybe one of those notes meant that Jared Foligno was grounded for both the Homecoming football game and the Homecoming dance, but that didn’t call for violence. 

“The tournament was being held all week,” Carrie says, “with brackets and everything. Each day a couple teams would get eliminated until Friday when we would have the finals. The winning team would end up winning half the entry fee money. We were going to buy plants for the community garden.”

“What is dodgeball?” Teyla asks.

“Oh. Um, it’s a game where you have two teams and they throw balls at each other and if you get hit then you’re out. The last team with members still in wins.”

“Sounds fun,” Ronon says.

She eyes the breadth of his shoulders and the size of his biceps. “For you, maybe. Anyway, the whistle blew for the first game, and every person on the other team got a ball and threw them at me. And they weren’t the soft ones. I think they must’ve swapped some special ones in, because I definitely ended up with bruises.”

“You came home crying,” Rodney remembers.

“Yeah. I said I failed a test. And everyone believed me until the next day when it happened again. I tried to sneak inside the house without anybody noticing but Rodney did. He caught me icing one of my bruises.”

“That’s a violent dodgeball tournament,” John says, frowning.

“Yeah,” Carrie agrees. “Rodney got the whole story out of me - that people were trying to hurt me on purpose, that I couldn’t back out because my club members told me it would be all my fault if we didn’t get to buy our tomato plants and I just really wanted them to like me.”

“They were idiots,” Rodney says. “And they were mean.”

“I was a freshman,” Carrie reminds him. “I thought having friends was worth getting hit with a few dodgeballs.”

“These people do not sound like they were friends,” Teyla says. 

Carrie nods. “Yeah, well, I am the stupid one in the family.”

Rodney makes an outraged sound, and Carrie continues to talk over him.

“Anyways, Rodney figured out what was going on, and he was spitting mad. He wanted to write in a threat to the school so they’d be forced to cancel the tournament. That was a bad idea for a lot of reasons, the least of which was that only one person in our town could actually write a credible A-bomb threat, and I didn’t want him to get in trouble for looking out for me.”

“Really?” John asks, turning to Rodney. “An A-bomb threat?”

Rodney shrugs. “It’s not like I could beat the bullies up on my own. Believe me, if I could've done that I would’ve. A long time ago.”

“Instead what he did,” Carrie says, “Is he didn’t get in the car with the CIA people when they came to pick him up from school. He hid out in the gym, and I had no idea what was going on until we were in the middle of a round, and I was on the ground because I’d been hit, and people were still throwing dodgeballs at me, and I was covering my face because bruises there would be harder to hide from our parents and then suddenly the CIA bursts into our gym looking for Rodney. The entire gym went dead silent, and Rodney came out from the bleachers, and I’ll never forget this. There are CIA agents in combat gear, and he just strolled up to them and said ‘sorry, I wanted to support my sister’. And then he waved to me and walked out with them. Every other team forfeited against us after that. We got to buy our tomato plants.”

“Seriously?” John asks.

“How is this embarrassing?” Ronon asks.

Carrie looks over at her brother. His cheeks are pink. “You embarrassed yet, Rodney?” she asks.

“Ugh,” he says, blush going all the way up to the tips of his ears. 

“I have a better story,” Ronon says. “It involves a snake.”

“Oh, really?” Rodney complains. “This story? You’re going to ruin my reputation of bravery.”

“You have a reputation of bravery?” John asks.

“This is news to me,” Teyla says. 

Rodney throws his hands up in the air and grumbles about being underappreciated as Ronon launches into a tale about one of their off world trips. Carrie grins and knocks her foot against Rodney’s under the table. 

“You’re going to laugh too?” Rodney asks, turning to her like she’s his last hope.

“You’re my brother,” she tells him. “That means I love you. And that I am also obligated to join in on any light-hearted teasing.”

Rodney huffs and crosses his arms over his chest but he knocks his foot back against hers, and Carrie smiles. 


	5. Chapter 5

Once they determine the Wraith are one day out from Atlantis they begin to evacuate all nonessential personnel off base. There’s a planet they’re being sent to, one they can learn to survive on, but Carrie’s sure she’s not the only one thinking that it’s only a matter of time before the Wraith find that planet as well.

And without the technology Atlantis has they’ll be in even more trouble.

“You should go with them,” Rodney tells Carrie, their third time having this conversation. They’re having this iteration as Rodney fiddles with...something. Time is too precious to waste right now so everyone’s multi-tasking.

Carrie herself has an energy reader with all the information they’ve gathered from their solar panels and wind turbines so far. Provided that nothing goes wrong they can support the shield and even build up a little reserve power. Carrie knows better than to think nothing will go wrong. Which is exactly why she’s staying.

“You might need me here.”

“I can do everything you can,” Rodney says, and she knows he doesn’t mean to put her down so she doesn’t bother getting angry.

“Yeah but you can do things I can’t,” she says. “Which means you shouldn’t be wasted doing solar panel maintenance.”

He frowns which means he knows she’s right and just doesn’t want to admit it. “Burakovsky -”

“Is a great engineer, but not as good as I am with the tech. Rodney,” she talks slowly, measured, and makes sure she has his attention. “I’m staying.”

Rodney’s frown deepens as he tries to find another argument, but Carrie knows he won’t find one. And even if he can scrounge one up Carrie’s not going to listen. She’s staying put, and he can’t convince her otherwise. 

“I wasn’t supposed to be here,” she says, “but I am here, and I’m not going to run. You and I both know that if Atlantis falls then we’re screwed. Which means we better make sure we’ve got every advantage we can muster, and I’m one of those advantages.”

“I just don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“I’ve gotten to see space,” she says. “And I’ve finally gotten to see what you do. I still don’t understand it, but I’ve seen it.”

“And that’s worth possibly dying?”

“Rodney,” she takes a deep breath, “You’ve said your equivalent of I love you. Twice. That’s a pretty big deal. Would I rather not have to risk my life to hear it? Yeah. But has coming out here been worth it? Definitely.”

“If I hadn’t sent that message,” he starts.

“Then you’d still be searching for ZPMs to power your shield. Maybe you’d’ve found one. And maybe our solar rig job isn’t going to work. But I’ve been able to help here. And isn’t that what everyone wants to do with their life? Help other people?”

“I guess,” Rodney says. “But promise me - if the shield fails and the Wraith make it to the city - get in a Jumper and get out.”

“Rodney -”

“ _ Promise me _ ,” he says, fierce, and she remembers that stubbornness is a trait that runs in their family.

“I don’t know how to fly,” she reminds him.

“I’ll teach you - no, Beckett’ll teach you. There are things I need to do. But, you should learn. I’ll radio him right now. I -”

“Rodney.” She steps forward so she can clasp her hands in his. “I’m not a pilot. And I’m not essential personnel. If Atlantis falls then it falls. Now would be the time to leave if that’s what I was going to do but I’m not.”

His hands are limp, awkward in hers like he doesn’t know what to do. She pulls him in for a hug, holding tight until he hugs her back.

~*~

She’s been brave for Rodney her entire life and now is no different. She’s brave for him so he doesn't worry about her, because there are a lot of things he needs his brain for and worry isn’t one of them. 

Once she’s in her room, though, once the door is shut and she’s all alone, she curls up on her bed and lets herself be scared. She lets herself cry, because she doesn't know what’s going to happen. She doesn't know if the shield will hold. She doesn't know if their weapons will work. She doesn’t know how many Wraith will come at them.

She wishes she could write Jeannie something.

She knows that brink of death messages were what got her here in the first place, but she’d like to tell Jeannie she loves her. She’d like to say goodbye, something she didn’t do in their whirlwind visit. She’d like -

She’d like a lot of things.

After tossing and turning for several hours in her bed she gives up on sleep. She pulls a sweatshirt over her pajama top and leaves her quarters. Taking a walk around the city might help clear her head. At the very least it will tire out her body, and maybe, if she’s very lucky, it will tire out her mind. 

She wanders through the city, going through the doors that open, not paying attention to where she’s going. She finds herself in the Gate Room, and it’s as empty as the arch way that they use to travel. The lights are off, only the dim moonlight coming through the windows illuminates the room and that’s just enough to keep her from crashing into things.

She sits, cross legged on the floor, and wonders why there’s no one else here. She would think that they’d have a night shift. But maybe there’s nothing left to do to prepare. Maybe they just have to wait.

She looks around the room, remembering when she first landed in Atlantis, and she wonders if she can leave the same way she got here. If she wishes hard enough will Atlantis send her back to Earth? If she thinks about her apartment and her bed? Her job? Her  _ sister _ ?

She doesn’t even feel a tingle.

She’s still on the floor, still staring at the Stargate when she hears footsteps.

“Couldn’t sleep?” John asks. He’s in civilian clothes, pajama pants and a t-shirt only a little looser than the ones he wears during the day. He sits down next to her, feet on the floor, arms pulling his knees to his chest. “Me neither. Though usually I look for a room with a better view.”

“I didn’t trip any alarms or anything, did I?” she asks. She hadn’t even thought of that when she started her wanderings.

“Nah. Atlantis likes you.”

“Atlantis brought me here,” she says. “Doors opened until this is where I ended up. I thought it was trying to tell me to go home, but I’m still here so maybe not.”

“There’s still time for you to get the alpha site,” John says.

“I think if I really wanted to leave then Atlantis would’ve sent me back to Earth,” she says. She’s still not entirely sure how Atlantis brought her here in the first place, but she’s going to stick with this theory until she gets a better one. She wished herself to Atlantis and if she really wanted to be home then she would’ve wished herself away.

“It’s going to be dangerous,” John says, but he states it as a fact, not like he’s trying to convince her to leave.

“Yeah,” she agrees. “That’s what’s keeping you up?”

“I don’t like waiting,” he says. “If they’re going to come then I want them here so we can start fighting. The waiting just makes everyone anxious. We’ve done everything we can to prepare.”

“And now you wanna blast some Wraith outta the sky?” 

John grins. “Exactly. You want to hear what we’ve done to get ready?”

She’s pretty sure that’ll only make her more nervous. “Thanks but I’m good.”

“Want to go watch the sun rise?”

Now that sounds like the kind of thing she can get behind. “You sure you don’t need to sleep or something?” Her not getting a full night sleep before the night of a major battle is far less important than the ranking military member on the base not getting a full night of sleep. 

“Positive.”

~*~

The Wraith are kind enough to wait until John and Carrie watch the sun come up and have had breakfast to get close enough to Atlantis that everyone goes on alert. John goes to get their weapons ready, and Carrie takes a repair kit and goes out to the city’s surface.

The comm in her ear tells her when the Wraith get into orbit, and moments later she can see a swarm of little ships descend towards the city. Darts, John told her they were called. Hundreds, maybe even thousands of them pour down, and Carrie really hopes the shield holds or they’re in big trouble.

There’s a faint shimmer that means the shield is up, but it looks more like a bubble than anything substantive enough to protect them. The darts begin to fire on the city, and Carrie holds her breath, not daring to breathe against until the shield holds under the first onslaught.

“Good job,” Rodney tells her over the comm. “Hopefully it keeps working.”

“That is the goal,” Carrie says. She winces as they come under another wave of fire. The shield is holding, but that doesn’t make it any easier to watch the weapon fire coming at her.

She checks the energy reader in her hand. They’re still pulling enough power to keep the shield at full strength. She has no idea what they’re going to do about all the enemy ships. There’s no way they have enough ammunition to take them all out.

“One hive ship down,” John reports.

Cheers come through the comms.

“That leaves two?” Elizabeth asks.

“One!” John crows. “This satellite is  _ awesome _ .”

Carrie watches the energy readings fluctuate as the shield takes more and more damage. She’s about to ask if there's anything they can do about the little ships when John’s voice comes through the comms again.

“Satellite’s been destroyed. One hive ship remaining and a whole lot of darts. Time to deploy the Jumpers.”

“There’s too many darts,” Dr. Weir says. “They’ll overwhelm you.”

“We can go invisible,” John counters. “And we need to take out the last hive ship. Maybe the darts will self-destruct once main command is gone.”

“We’re not that lucky,” Rodney says.

Carrie watches as the darts pull away, abandoning their fruitless campaign of firing on the shield. It’s too much to hope that they're giving up and retreating - Rodney is right, luck isn’t on their side - it makes her nervous. 

What are they planning?

“What’s going on?” Rodney asks, mirroring Carrie’s own thoughts. “This looks good, but I know it can’t be. Wha - Oh.  _ Oh. _ ”

Oh, is right.

A small fleet of darts have pulled back ,but now they’re headed towards the shield, noses pointed like spears at the bubble that’s protecting Atlantis.

“This is not what I meant by self-destruct,” John says as the first darts crash into the shield. They explode in balls of fire, and Carrie’s torn away from the lightshow by her reader beeping angrily.

Apparently dart collisions pack a lot more heat than dart weapons.

“We can’t hold up under a full assault,” Carrie says even as she swings under a set of panels to see if there’s any way they can squeeze more power out of their set-up. Too many waves like that and the shield will buckle unless she can find a way to boost their cells.

“How bad is it?” Dr. Weir asks, steady, calm.

Another flow of darts dive nose first into the shield.

“Shields at 75%,” Carrie says.

“Can you get them back up?” Rodney asks.

“Do you have a hidden power source I can tap?” She starts to adjust the wiring, putting the energy directly into the shield instead of into the batteries. When they were trying to build up a surplus the batteries made sense but right now they need everything they can get. Too long like this and the whole thing will overload, but she’s pretty sure the darts will get through before that happens.

It’s not a very comforting thought.

“We can put all non-essential personnel on those bike things,” John says. “Pedal for power.”

“Major,” Dr. Weird says, reprimand heavy in her voice.

Carrie grins as she moves to the next cluster of wires.

“Or, you could let me deploy the Jumpers,” John says. “And the surface-to-air fighters. We might not be able to down all the darts, but every little bit will help.”

“70%,” Carrie updates as bits of Wraith ships fall into the water. “I second Major Sheppard’s proposal. Any kind of relief we can get will be appreciated.”

“I’ll lead the pilots,” John says. “Bates can lead the ground teams.”

“Keep in contact,” Dr. Weir says. “And the priority is the Hive ship.”

“Don't worry,” John says. “I’ve got a few good ideas. Also, from now on, I want to be addressed as Red Leader.”

“Oh great,” Rodney says. “Death is upon us, and you’re playing  _ Star Wars _ .”

“Better than hide-and-go-seek,” John says.

“Hide?” Rodney asks, and he doesn’t sound dismissive anymore. He sounds contemplative, like he’s on the verge of figuring something out. 

Carrie moves to the next tine of the snowflake. She knows better than to interrupt Rodney and, clearly, so do the others. She lets her brother’s brain work and continues to eke out what extra power she can.

The shield ticks back up to 72% and then another wave of darts knocks it down to 63.

“I think they've figured out that they’ve got a winning strategy,” Carrie says. She flinches as a dart crashes into the shield directly above her even though she knows it’s not going to come through and hit her. Not yet anyway.

“Jumpers deploying,” Sheppard says as the hangar doors open. “Bates and his men are getting into position. If we get you some relief can the shields hold?”

“Yes,” Carrie says.

“Is this a bad time to say there are three more Hive ships on their way?” Dr. Weir asks. “We estimate three days until they get here.”

“Must be mad we’re not just rolling over,” John says.

They definitely can’t hold up under an attack of three more ships, but Carrie figures everyone already knows that. She swallows back the tide of fear and pushes away the voice that says she might as well give up. They’ll find a way out of this. She just needs to keep them alive long enough for her brother’s big brain to work out a solution.

Bates and his men pour out of the city with what look like rocket launchers. They line the city, lifting their weapons to their shoulders, and Carrie hopes the shield’s smart enough to let their own weapons pass through or this is going to be more hindrance than help.

The first line of soldiers fire their weapons, and these strange yellow projectiles fly out of them, passing through the shield and targeting the darts like there’s some kind of tracking device in them.

“Did I hit something?” Beckett asks, voice crackling through the comm.

Eight darts drop into the water and don’t move.

“You sure did,” Dr. Weir says. “Keep up the good work. Sheppard, report.”

“Red team is cloaked and going in,” John says. “Most of the darts appear to be deployed so I’m going to try something.”

“What kind of something?”

The shields drop to 56%. He needs to try - and succeed - at something soon. Another volley of yellow things shoot out and more darts fall lifeless to the water. Not enough. 

“Don’t worry, I’m keeping my eyes open,” John says.

“The cloaking technology!” Rodney exclaims. “We can hide the city. Zelenka - Where’s Zelenka? If we get desperate than we can pretend the city’s gone. Why isn’t Zelenka here yet? We need to work on this  _ now _ . If we can get it done before the second wave of Hive ships…” Rodney trails off, probably running calculations in his head already.

Another blast rocks the shields.

“We’re in the 40s now,” Carrie says. “So if anyone’s been hoarding batteries now would be a good time to hand them over.”

“Initiating reckless high risk-high reward plan,” John says.

Bates and his men are continuously firing now, downing darts left, right, and center. It’s definitely helping, but that just means the shields are draining at a slower rate.

39%.

“Yeehaw!” John shouts through the comms. “Explosives planted and about to detonate. Let’s hope it blows a hole right through the Hive ship.”

There’s a moment of silence before Dr. Weir says, “Did you just manually drop a nuke on the Hive ship?”

“We’ve got all these missiles that are incompatible with our firing mechanisms,” John answers. “Hold on a second I need to get out of the launch bay before the ship blows.”

Wait - did John fly his Jumper into a Hive ship, scatter a couple missiles and set them to self-destruct? Carrie thinks high risk might’ve been an understatement. She looks up at the sky even though she can’t see the Hive ship let alone John’s Jumper, and she holds her breath until John’s, “Victory is mine!” is heard loud and clear over the headsets.

She exhales in a rush of air, but she only has a moment of joy before the remaining darts pull up for one last concentrated attack.

“Oh boy,” she says.

There’s so many of them they blot out the sky, casting Carrie’s work space into darkness. Even if there was something she could do to boost the shields she can’t see enough to be able to actually do it.

“Air support coming in,” John says.

It’s not going to be enough. The darts are going to slam through the shield and then rip Atlantis to pieces. Even if the shield manages to hold or the city doesn’t get completely demolished there are still three more Hive ships on the way. They won’t be able to scramble together another defense.

They’ll -

“We’ve got it!” Rodney announces. “We’ve found a way to tie the cloaking device into the shield. We can cloak the city.”

“How does that help us?” Dr. Weir asks. “The darts aren’t going to forget that we’re here.”

The darts are going to crash into them at any moment is what they're going to do. Carrie ducks under one of the solar platforms, arms above her head like the old school air raid drills.

“The darts are going to incinerate on impact,” Rodney says. “They won’t be able to report back. When they hit we go dark. Then when the Hive ships come they’ll think we’ve been wiped out.”

“Will that work?” John asks.

“Anyone have a better idea?” Rodney fires back.

Silence.

“It’s worth a try,” Dr. Weir says. “I want every spare bit of power we’ve got to go to the shields. This won’t work if we can’t hold up both the shields and the cloak.”

The shields tick back up to 44% just in time for the darts to crash into it. There’s the sound of explosions, the grind of metal against metal, and the sky is lit up with bright flashes and fire. The shield ripples, and Carrie’s reader beeps all kinds of warnings at her, but nothing comes through the shield. It’s going to hold. It’s -

“Cloak activated,” Rodney says.

3%, Carrie’s reader flashes. As long as nothing else comes at them they can hold here.

“Three darts are pulling off,” Dr. Weir says. “Sheppard, if they break orbit and rendezvous with the incoming Hive ships then none of this matters.”

“On it,” John says, “Red team, you’re with me.”

“Yellow team feeling left out, sir,” Ford says.

“Then come join us. Every pilot that downs a dart gets dinner on me.”

“Dinner’s always on you,” Ford laughs and then there’s silence as they switch to another channel.

~*~

After all the Wraith in the area are gone there’s a brief celebration in the city before clean-up and repair crews go out to evaluate the damage and start getting the city back in order so that they’re as ready as they can be when the next wave of Wraith arrive. And by ready, Carrie means that they need enough power to keep both the shield and the cloak up and they need a lot of luck so the Wraith don’t investigate too closely what happened to Atlantis. 

“What can I do to help?” John asks, finding Carrie at one of the solar sites.

She’d finagled some things to get an extra boost when they were desperate, and, like she predicted, it had overloaded the system and now she needs to inspect every bit and fix or replace what’s blown out.

John’s in his tac vest, gun in hand, because they’re not sure if any of the Wraith survived their ships crashing. There are a couple pilots doing sweeps of the area, but no one wants to take any chances.

“Keep me company?” Carrie asks. “Though, warning, this isn’t the most glamorous part of what I do.”

“I’m not a glamour guy,” John says. “No need to worry about impressing me. This shield saved our lives. I’m already impressed.”

“Wouldn’t have held without you taking out the Hive ship,” Carrie says. “Or the darts.”

John grins, a faint blush on his cheeks. “This is probably the time I should say something about teamwork, but instead I’m going to take full credit for saving Atlantis.”

Carrie laughs, bright and startled, and John’s grin grows, pleased with himself.

They make it through the first part of repairs by lunch, and John insists on her going to the mess. She only agrees because they’ve got enough power that that shields are climbing back up towards 100% and because she needs to reapply her sunscreen and she forgot her bottle inside.

Lunch is interrupted by a message from Dr. Weir, telling them to report to the Gate Room immediately. There’s urgency in her voice like something’s wrong, but Carrie doesn’t know what use she is in a crisis situation. She’s good with the solar panels but that requires being outside.

She still follows John to the Gate Room where Dr. Weir and Rodney are waiting by one of the computers. Rodney’s got his arms crossed over his chest, and he’s biting down on his bottom lip. He’s nervous about something.

“We’ve picked up a ship on the scanner,” Dr. Weir says.

“Wraith?” John asks. “I thought they were still two days out.”

“We don’t know what it is,” Dr. Weir says.

“It came from hyperspace,” Rodney says. “It could be friendly.”

“I wouldn’t chance dropping the cloak,” John says.

“I guess we’re about to find out if the cloak works,” Dr. Weir says. “Can we fight back if it doesn’t?”

“Yes,” John answers. “Our success just depends on who’s up there and what they want.”

“Oh good,” Rodney says.

They look like they’re about to start bickering but then a voice crackles over the radio. “Atlantis, this is Colonel Caldwell of the  _ Daedalus _ . We are picking up signs of a battle. If there are any survivors please respond.”

Carrie looks over at John. It sounds like these are friends. Dr. Weir sighs, slumping against her console in relief. Because the cloak worked? Because these are friends? Both?

“Guess I should answer,” John says. He presses a few buttons. “ _ Daedalus,  _ this is Major John Sheppard. We’ve had a bit of a situation, but we can explain.”


	6. Chapter 6

Carrie isn’t a part of the official debriefings. When the  _ Daedalus  _ comes and docks she goes back to the solar panels. She doesn’t know what it means that there’s a spaceship here now, but the Hive ships are still coming. Even if the  _ Daedalus  _ goes out to meet them it can only be a good thing to have functional shields and a functional cloak.

~*~

The  _ Daedalus  _ being here means she’s going home.

They brought a ZPM with them, because there’s a - contingent? battalion? - a lot of soldiers waiting to come through the Gate to defend Atlantis. And if people can come in then other people can leave.

She was never supposed to be here, and it doesn’t take long for Bates to drag her in front of a man introduced to her as Colonel Caldwell. He’s a tall man with a stern expression on his face. At least his gun is strapped to his waist and isn’t being held like Bates’s. 

Carrie doesn’t know what she has to do to prove that she’s not a danger to anyone. Though, if Bates gets his way then she’ll be back on Earth before the day is over. She’s not sure how to feel about that. Of course, it doesn’t really matter how she feels, because this is a choice that’s going to be made for her.

“Well, young lady,” Colonel Caldwell says, finally speaking, “You’ve caused quite a fuss back home.”

Carrie bites back her initial response which is that she’s a woman in her thirties. She’s not a ‘young lady’. 

“First, I should say that it’s a relief to find you alive,” he continues before Carrie can put together some kind of response. “When you disappeared from the Antarctic base there was a lot of concern.”

“I’m sure,” Carrie says. She looks from Caldwell to Bates and thinks she’d be a lot more comfortable if someone she knew and trusted was in the room with her. 

As if she’s summoned him, her brother bursts into the room, jacket half-zipped and showing a t-shirt that’s stained with what looks like ketchup. His hair’s in a disarray, like he’s been running his hand through it and that combined with the ketchup stain means he was multi-tasking again, working while he was eating. 

“Not that I’m not glad to see you,” Carrie says, “because I am. But aren’t you busy?”

“Incredibly busy,” Rodney says with a pointed glare at Caldwell. “But not too busy to be here. Sheppard and Teyla both wanted to come too, but we can’t spare everyone right now. Sorry.”

Carrie’s warmed that she’s managed to make friends while she’s been here. She’s even more warmed by the fact that it’s Rodney who chose to stick by her even though other people volunteered. She moves closer to him even though neither of them are particularly equipped to deal with men with guns. 

“Dr. McKay,” Caldwell greets. He does a better job hiding his displeasure that Rodney’s shown up than Bates does, but there’s still a slight frown wrinkling his forehead.

Carrie wants to know why her brother got to be Dr. McKay and she was ‘young lady’.

“I was just telling your sister that we were glad she’s alive and well,” Caldwell says, “We didn’t know what to think when she disappeared from the base in Antarctica.”

“And I said I was grateful for their concern,” Carrie says. “And now you’re caught up on our whole conversation.”

“We are curious how you got to Atlantis,” Caldwell says. “We’ve had people trying to replicate what you did but so far no one’s been successful. When you’re back on Earth I’m sure the scientists would appreciate studying your genetic makeup.”

“I’ve given Dr. Beckett all the samples he’s asked for,” Carrie says. “And that’s all I’m prepared to do in terms of becoming a human experiment.”

“Wait,” Rodney says. “What do you mean when she’s back on Earth?”

“She’s not authorized to be on Atlantis,” Bates says. “Now that there’s a way to send her back, she’s not staying here.”

Rodney opens his mouth to protest, but Carrie puts a hand on his arm. She appreciates that he’s willing to fight for her, but Bates has a point. She’s not supposed to be here. It’s a pretty big breach of procedure that she is here, and the only reason she stayed was because they couldn’t send her back. And the only reason she was able to see as much of Atlantis as she did was because they were desperate for help, and she had the knowledge and skills to help. 

Would she love to stay on Atlantis? Absolutely.

But she doesn’t think it’s possible. 

“You’ll accompany the  _ Daedalus  _ on its return mission,” Caldwell says. 

“What about the Stargate?” Rodney asks. “People have been coming through it all day.”

“It’s a massive drain on our power,” Caldwell says. “It’s for emergencies only. We leave in three days.”

“Alright,” Carrie says. “Am I allowed to continue repairing the solar equipment?”

“It was instrumental in us surviving the Wraith attack,” Rodney says with a pointed look at Caldwell. “ _ Carrie  _ was instrumental in our survival.”

“Bring someone with you to shadow you,” Caldwell tells her. “I’m sure it can’t be too complicated to teach.”

Carrie’s patience, already thin, is strained even more. 

“Not too complicated?” Rodney demands. “You want to know how many years she went to school to learn what you’re calling not too complicated?”

Carrie’s warmed by the fact that her brother, usually the first to criticize her pursuit of the ‘softer sciences’ is defending them to Caldwell. But she also knows that no matter how much indignation he musters up it won’t matter. 

“I can teach the basics,” she says, “but you should request personnel that know their stuff. Not only is alternative energy going to be important on Atlantis, but it will help in the outreach and defense of other planets. And  _ that  _ is definitely too complicated for me to teach in three days.”

“I’ll put the request in,” Calwell says. “But right now a military presence is the priority.”

“Right,” Rodney says, “Because the military is always the answer. Nevermind the fact that is was  _ science  _ that saved us from the Wraith.”

“I recall we downed hundreds of darts,” Bates says, an edge in his voice.

“With weapons my team designed,” Rodney says. “Your guns would’ve been useless without our adjustments. And we wouldn’t have even had a chance to use our weapons if the shield hadn’t held.”

“It takes cooperation from both sides,” Caldwell interrupts before Rodney and Bates get into a shouting match. “Which is why I’ll be putting in a request for someone who is authorized to be on Atlantis to come and assist with your...science problems. In the meantime, Ms. McKay is returning to Earth.”

“It’s okay,” Carrie tells her brother. “Jeannie’s probably worried sick about me. It’ll be good to see her. And I’m doing important work on Earth too. If we don’t start implementing alternative energy there then we’re going to cook our own planet and everyone’ll be coming to Atlantis.”

Rodney doesn’t look convinced so Carrie tries to smile brighter, tries to reassure him that it’ll be fine even though she doesn’t quite believe it herself. 

~*~

She spends the three weeks it takes to get back to Earth filling her notebooks with sketches of blueprints for portable solar units. She’s designed three different sizes, small ones that can fit in a field bag and serve as emergency power, larger ones that can have wheels attached so they can be brought alien civilizations to provide a decent stable power source and then much larger ones that’ll need special equipment to bring in but, in theory, should be able to power a small shield-cloak hybrid. 

Now that a link has been established between Earth and Atlantis, Carrie can send her brother her blueprints even if she can’t be there to create them. 

Before she leaves the  _ Daedalus  _ she sews her blueprints into her rain jacket, because the crinkle of the outer shell will hide the crinkle of the paper. She doesn’t know what prompts her to do it except that maybe she’s seen too many spy movies, but she’s glad she did do it, because everything not on her person is confiscated when she gets off the  _ Daedalus _ . 

Colonel Caldwell transfers her to a man in a military uniform - she wants to guess army, but she’s not positive - and someone else takes her backpack.

“Am I going to get that back?” she asks as she’s escorted down a hallway and into a small, windowless room. “I’ve got important work on there.” She’s got it backed up in four or five different places; well, everything but the new stuff from Atlantis, but her laptop’s in there, and she’d rather not have to buy a new one.

“You may have it back once we’ve gone through it,” the man across the table from her says. “I’m sure you can understand why we don’t want...sensitive material getting into the wrong hands.”

She wants to ask what they’re going to do about the sensitive material in her head, but she’s afraid they’ll pull out some kind of mind wiping technology or throw her in an even smaller room and lock the door.

What they do isn’t nearly so sinister.

“We’ve got paperwork for you,” the man says, pulling out an intimidatingly thick stack of paper. “Standard non-disclosure agreements. I’m sure you understand.”

It takes her the better part of three hours to work her way through all the documents that basically amount to her saying that she won’t say anything about what happened from when she received Rodney’s message to when she got back here. She then spends another four hours going over her cover story for the past few weeks.

Only after all that is she given a ride to the airport and then tickets to go back home.

She calls Jeannie from the airport and leaves her a short message when she doesn’t pick up.

_ Hey, Jeannie, it’s Carrie. I’m sorry if you’ve been trying to call my phone was acting up. I just wanted to call you and tell you that I’m safe and everything’s alright. I’m back to work tomorrow, but I’ll come and visit you the first weekend I can, okay? Love you. _

~*~

Carrie walks face first into her apartment door before realizing that the door won’t open automatically. She rubs her nose as she opens the door, a dark apartment greeting her. She flips on the lights, and looks around. 

Everything’s exactly as she left it except for a stack of mail on the counter. There’s a sticky note on the top envelope.

_ Mrs. Wrigley was complaining about the mail build-up so I brought it in for you. -Kayla _

Kayla’s her across the hall neighbor and a pediatric nurse at the local hospital. Carrie will have to pop over to say thank you and maybe test out her cover story. Carrie’s never been particularly good at lying and that’s all she’s going to be doing for the next few days.

~*~

She’s put to the test the second she walks into her office.

“Where have you been?” Cullen demands as she drops her bag onto her desk. “You’ve been gone for  _ weeks _ !”

“Got called away on a project,” Carrie says. She sinks down into her chair, and pulls her blueprints out of her bag. She’d carefully taken them out of her coat last night, and no one had shown up at her door with a paper shredder. She doesn’t think anyone knows she has them, and after a few days she can claim she came up with the idea here. They’ll benefit Earth, not just Atlantis.

She still has to find a way to get them to Rodney. Her plans to send him a space message were foiled when Mr. Paperwork informed her that she was forbidden to have any contact with Atlantis or anyone in the Stargate program. 

“A project?” Cullen asks going from worried to interested in seconds. He slides over to her desk. “What kind of project?”

He’s wearing his favorite sweater vest today, green with brown horizontal stripes and little yellow suns between the stripes. He claims his niece bought it for him which means he’s obligated to wear it as often as possible, but she’s pretty sure he got it for himself. Or has at least ordered himself extras for when he inevitably wears them out. 

“The kind I can’t talk about,” she says.

He sits down on the edge of her desk. “A secret project? One where you got spirited away without a word and then appeared back here, again, without a word? Carrilynn McKay have you sold out and started working with the Americans?”

“I still can’t tell you anything,” she says.

“I’m going to ask you questions,” Cullen tells her. “Blink once for yes and twice for no.”

Carrie closes her eyes. 

“Fine, fine,” Cullen says. “You keep your secrets. Hey, what’s that?” He pulls her designs off her desk, scanning them with interest. “I haven’t seen these before.”

“No one has,” she says, snatching the sheets back.

“Not even your shady new friends?” Cullen asks.

“They told me I wasn’t the right one for the job,” Carrie says, technically true. And she’s still a little bit bitter.

Cullen eyes the blueprints. “Want to prove them wrong? I bet Wilson and Latta’d be up for it. I’d say they missed you, but I’m not sure they register the existence of people besides themselves. You know how many lives these things could save?” He taps the paper. “How many people we could keep warm if we could harvest the energy for heaters?”

“Or how many people we could keep cool if we set them up in the desert?” Carrie asks. “They’re portable too. As soon as one community doesn’t need one we can easily pack them up and move them to the next.”

“Yeah,” Cullen says. He frowns at something he sees. “What’s this bubble thing?”

Right, the shield. “Nothing,” Carrie says, way too quick and Cullen frowns at her now. 

“One day you will tell me what you got up to the past few weeks,” he says. “But for now we have more important things to do.”

~*~

When Carrie gets home from her third day of work (late because coming home to an empty apartment makes her miss Atlantis and that’s counterproductive) her sister’s sitting on her couch. 

Carrie hesitates in the doorway of her apartment, because Jeannie hadn’t called so Carrie hadn’t expected her, because for a short time Carrie thought she’d never see her sister again because seeing her sister makes her miss her brother and -

She almost gets bowled over as Jeannie crashes into her - it’s supposed to be a hug, Carrie thinks but it’s more like an unsuccessful attempt to tackle her to the ground. 

“You’re alive,” Jeannie says, holding onto Carrie so tight Carrie’s not sure she’ll be alive for much longer. “I was so worried.” Jeannie pulls back enough to glare at her sister. “You  _ disappeared _ ! No one knew where you were. I almost drove myself out of my mind!”

“I’m sorry,” Carrie says. She gets all the way into her apartment, enough that she can shut the door. She hugs her sister again, holds her close. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know what was going to happen.”

“What did happen?” Jeannie asks.

Carrie shakes her head. “I can’t tell you.” She wanders further into her apartment, dropping her bag down on her kitchen counter. She drags a hand over her face. “I wish I could. It’s - it’s quite the story. But I can’t.”

“Did you -” Jeannie looks around, “Did you find Rodney?”

“I  _ really  _ can’t talk about it,” Carrie says. She takes a few steps back towards her sister, drops her voice. “But he’s okay. He’s going to be fine.”

Jeannie breaths a sigh of relief. “I was so worried. I thought I lost him. And then I thought I lost  _ you _ . I was so close to calling up a contact of mine and trying to get in on the project.”

“I don’t know what project you’re talking about,” Carrie says, “and you probably shouldn’t tell me anymore about it.”

“But,” Jeannie snaps her mouth shut, figuring it out. “Well, you’re okay and that’s all that matters. You’re seriously back to work already?”

“What I do is important,” Carrie says. 

More important than she ever realized. 

~*~

Three months after returning from Atlantis, Carrie’s in Saskatchewan with Cullen, Wilson, and Latta. She hadn’t realized that knowing what her brother was facing out there in Atlantis would mean that she was going to worry every single day about him. She’s not allowed to send or receive letters from him. She’s not even sure she’ll be informed if he’s killed. 

Missing Atlantis, worrying about her brother - it was slowly consuming her, and she responded by throwing herself into her work. And lately she and her team have been going to First Nation Reserves to implement their new solar technology and talk with them about it.

The Muskoday First Nation is the second community they’ve worked with, and this is the third day they’ve been with them. Carrie’s currently out in one of the prairie fields, showing Charmaine and Simone how the solar device is properly unpacked and set up. 

“This is one of the smaller units,” Carrie says, “But we’re going to teach you how to make them yourselves so you can make as many as you need even after we’re gone.”

“Why?” Charmaine asks, running her fingers across one of the panels. “Why would you do this for us?”

“Because I want there to be such an abundance of energy in the world that no one has to pay for it,” Carrie tells her. “Because I want to turn the world’s attention towards energy sources that won’t kill our planet.” 

Both women nod like they agree with her reasons. 

“You’ll have choices,” Carrie tells them. “You can set up enough stations to power what you have or you can make a whole farm and sell the excess energy back to the Canadian power companies.”

“We can make money off our land without destroying it,” Simone says. 

“Exactly. And I’m sure there are improvements you can make on the technology. We’re still in the learning stages, and the more you work with it the more familiar you’ll get. And maybe your friends or family members will go to school to study solar engineering.”

“Yes,” Charmaine says. “You say this device can power our lights?”

“And much more,” Carrie says. She can’t help but think of the set-up that saved her life on Atlantis. There won’t be any need for a shield here, but maybe the technology can help the people here all the same.

~*~

A month after their arrival at Muskoday, Carrie and her team are at a dance being held in the band hall. There’s an enthusiastic band playing and the room is lit up with power from the solar panels they finished installing three days ago. In addition to the mobile units, the Muskoday First Nation have chosen to install solar panels on many of their buildings as well. 

It’s clean energy and it makes them more self-sufficient and after a month of hard work, Carrie isn’t the only one excited to let loose and party. 

Charmaine’s dragged Carrie into a dance that she has no hope of doing right, but after a month of patiently learning from Carrie, Charmaine deserves the opportunity to be a teacher.

“You’re a much better student than I am,” Carrie says, as her feet get tangled up with each other. Again.

Charmaine reaches out to steady her. And then she looks over Carrie’s shoulder at something or maybe someone. “Are you expecting friends?”

Carrie turns to see two people that look very, very out of place in the the Muskoday band hall. Her brother’s in his favorite wind pants, and he’s looking around with horror on his face like he can’t imagine why dozens of people would willingly choose to dance.

John’s next to him, and he’s searching the crowd with purpose. When he gaze lands on hers, his face breaks out into a beautiful smile. He’s moving towards her in an instant, and Carrie’s stuck where she is, not understanding what’s going on. She was told to forget about Atlantis. She was told Atlantis would forget about her.

“You’re a very difficult person to track down,” John says when he reaches her. His hair is particularly tousled today, and she wants to reach up and mess it up even more, but she’s not sure she’s allowed to. She’s not sure he’s even real. Is this one of those times where you wish for something so hard that your mind makes it come true?

“You’re not hallucinating,” Rodney says.

“I guess you wouldn’t be here if I was,” Carrie says, flashing her brother a smile so he knows she’s kidding...sort of. “Um, why  _ are  _ you two here?”

“Turns out there’s a lot of red tape involved in requesting more members for the expedition,” Rodney says. “I guess it makes sense, because the ZPM can’t support the Gate indefinitely and even with the  _ Daedalus  _ there isn’t a lot of travel between Earth and Atlantis but -”

“What Rodney’s trying to say,” John says, cutting in, “is that Atlantis has need of experts in alternative energy.”

“What?” Carrie asks.

Rodney’s beaming as he pulls a packet of papers out of his jacket. “I got you an application,” he says.

“What?” Carrie asks again.

“They can’t deny you,” Rodney says. “Your credentials are pretty good, and your references are going to be outstanding - obviously, I’m going to be one and Dr. Weir said she’d talk about you helping to save Atlantis and -”

It’s Carrie’s turn to cut her brother off, and she does it by throwing her arms around his neck. “You’re my favorite brother,” she tells him.

“I’m your only brother,” he reminds her, but he hugs her back, lightly patting her back like he doesn’t do this very often and isn’t sure how. 

“Atlantis for real?” she asks, looking at her brother and then at John.

They both nod.

“Atlantis for real,” Rodney says.

 

_ Epilogue _

Carrie arrives on the  _ Daedalus  _ with dozens of others who have jumped through all the hoops and signed all the forms and gotten permission to work for the Atlantis Expedition. She told Jeannie before she left, hugged her extra hard, and promised that she’d keep an eye on Rodney. 

When the ship docks, she’s surprised not that John is part of the welcoming crew but that he’s doing it in what look like civilian clothes. Cargo pants and a tight black t-shirt, no tac vest or gun in sight. 

“I thought I’d offer a personal tour,” he tells her, sweeping an arm out towards the bay doors. 

“Think I’ve already forgotten my way around?” she asks, letting him take her duffel bag back. She keeps her backpack slung over her shoulder. The equipment she brought with her will be unloaded when the  _ Daedalus  _ is unloaded. She’s got herself a team. Cullen stayed on Earth to keep working on their research there, but she gets Wilson and Latta, and as well as three others she met on the flight to Atlantis; Fukufuji from Japan, Roussel from France, and Jagr from the Czech Republic.

Fukufuji is brilliant and she’s a leading mind in the field having worked for the past ten years not only with the excellent technological advances that Japan has but also with how to maximize alternative energy in crowded spaces like Tokyo. Carrie’s work has mostly been in areas that haven’t been populated by people or, not very populated, and she can’t wait to compare notes with Fukufuji.

Roussel is a firecracker. She spent the trip over making bets with Wilson and Latta and managing to get their dessert rations out of them every single night. Jagr is the only one on Carrie’s team that’s older than her, and she’s not sure why he isn’t team leader, because he’s a  _ legend _ in the field of alternative energy. He confessed to her that his primary motivation in joining the team was so that he had a reason not to get drafted into giving talks at every college and university on Earth. And because space ‘should be sweet’. 

Carrie had just nodded, still a little starstruck. She’ll need to get over that.

“Things have changed a bit,” John says. “We managed to get you your same quarters, but you’ve got yourself an office and a lab now.”

“Fancy, fancy,” she says. “Alright. I accept your tour.”

John grins, and Carrie’s heart flip-flops, because her crush is still going strong even after being banished to Earth. Now that she’s here, full-time and permanently it’s probably going to grow out of control. She can’t help but wonder how he feels.

The fact that he’s taking her on a personal tour says a lot.

Their first stop is her quarters so they can put her bags on her bed. 

“You might want a jacket,” John says. 

“We going outside?” Carrie asks even as she starts going through her bag. She pulls out her official Atlantis jacket, complete with a Canadian flag on the sleeve. She can’t help her smile as she pulls it on and then zips it up. 

“It looks good on you,” John says and then he ducks his head, like he can’t believe what he just said.

Carrie reaches out to hold his hand. Crush is definitely going strong on both ends. “Where’s this tour go first?”

John looks down at their joined hands and then up at her, hopeful, but also like he thinks she’s about to yank the rug out from beneath his feet. 

“Uh, the Jumper Bay,” he says. “You already know where everything else is.”

“Jumper Bay? I know I’m gene-positive, but I’m not sure this is the time for flying lessons.”

“I’m going to do all the flying,” he promises her. “This time.”

“This time?” she echoes but she lets him lead her out of her room and to the Jumper Bay. 

There’s no one else there, and he gives her a hand into one of the Jumpers, the doors opening automatically for them. 

“We authorized for this?” she asks as the Jumper comes alive beneath his hands. 

“I told Dr. Weir I was giving you a preview of your first work site,” he says. He looks a little sheepish as the Jumper lifts from the ground. “I’m not sure she believed it.”

“Is there a reason she shouldn’t?” Carrie asks.

She’s sitting in the copilot’s seat, watching as John runs his hands over the console and brings the Jumper out of the bay and into the sky. She leans forward in her seat to watch as Atlantis grows smaller and smaller - a little island in the midst of a very large ocean. 

“The Athosians have a settlement on the mainland,” John says, tips of his ears pink. “It’s where we’re starting. If we can get a shield and cloak running for them then they won’t have to move back to Atlantis every time there’s a threat.”

“And if it works there then we can start expanding to other planets,” Carrie says. She leaves teasing John alone for now, interested in the work she’s been brought here for. “Will Teyla be there?”

“She’ll accompany you on your first few days working to introduce you to the Athosians and such. You know some of them from earlier, but there’ll be a lot of new faces.”

“Your team still together?” Carrie asks.

“Oh yeah. Me, Rodney, Teyla, and Ronon, we make a great team. Get into a few scrapes here and there but nothing bad.”

Carrie has a feeling that’s not the entire truth but she nods along anyways. “No more problems with the Genii?”

“They think we’ve been blown off the planet,” John says. “And we want to keep it that way. So far the Wraith do too. We’ve been posing as refugees on the few trips we’ve been on. But honestly, we’ve mostly been trying to get our things in order here.”

“Makes sense.”

John catches her up on what she’s missed in Atlantis, and they fly over the Athosian base, and then she has him circle back and pass over it twice more so she can make notes on the best places to set up solar farms and wind turbines. She’ll do a more extensive study later, but this is good for preliminary mapping. 

She’s so busy scribbling in her notebook that she doesn’t realize right away that they’re not headed back to Atlantis.

“Now where are we going?” she asks.

“We went to the site like I told Dr. Weir we were,” John says, like this is an important thing to note. “Now we’re...taking a detour.”

“A detour,” Carrie repeats, smile tugging at her lips.

John lands them on a plateau and opens the doors to the Jumper. “Come on,” he says, picking something up and bringing it out with him.

She follows him out and looks around them. The plateau they’re on isn’t as high as some of the mountains near them, but it has a beautiful view of the setting sun, and when she turns back to John, he’s got a blanket spread out on the ground and -

“A picnic?” she asks, smiling. “You brought me out for a picnic?”

“I had it all planned,” he says, pulling food out of his bag. “I wasn’t sure but then the hand holding and I figured that was a pretty good sign, so,” he shrugs and gestures for her to sit down. “Better than the last one we had.”

She sits so they’re side by side, and she leans in to press a quick kiss to his cheek. “I’m sure it’ll be lovely.”

“Uh,” he says, blushing and looking down. He produces a cup of Jello and holds it out to her.

She laughs, taking it from him and then she presses a kiss to his lips. “Relax,” she says. “You don’t need to impress me. I already like you.”

“Oh,” he says. “Well, that’s good. I mean, I like you too.” He rubs the back of his neck. “I’m not very good at this.”

“We’ll practice,” she says. She puts the Jello cup down. “Let’s start with dinner and then we can move onto dessert. And then maybe you’ll get to walk me back to my room this time.”

~*~

He doesn’t get to walk her back to her room. 

They get back from their picnic and on their way to the mess to drop off the basket, Ford finds them and John has to go do something with him. Carrie returns the leftover food and containers to the mess and then she goes to find her brother.

Probably, he should’ve been the first she said hello to when she got on base, but she doesn’t think he’ll be too upset that he’s second. She finds him in his office, someone helpfully pointing her in his direction, and she knocks on the open door, quiet enough that if he’s deep in thought she won’t disturb him.

He looks up from his computer and stares at her for a few seconds, like he’s not quite sure she’s there, and then he asks, “You’re here?”

“Did you forget I applied?” Carrie asks. “Or did you forget what day I was getting in?”

“If the  _ Daedalus  _ is here then why don’t I have my new shipments in yet.” He walks over to the doorway so he can shout out, “Have we gotten a delivery from the  _ Daedalus  _ yet?”

“They’re not unloading until tomorrow,” Carrie says.

Rodney seems to deflate. “Oh,” he says. “Nevermind!” he calls out to his staff. He ushers Carrie deeper into his office and shuts his door. “Just get in then?”

“Something like that,” she says.

She watches him go back to his desk, sinking back into his work as if he hadn’t been interrupted at all. Her feelings would be hurt but she knows he’s got enough brainpower to focus on two things at once.

“I said hi to Jeannie for you,” Carrie says. “She told me to keep an eye on you.”

“Funny,” Rodney says, “because when I said hi to her she told  _ me  _ to keep an eye on  _ you _ .”

Carrie grins. “Then I guess neither of us have anything to worry about. There’s nothing a McKay brain can’t fix.”

Rodney looks up from his computer. “Yes,” he says and then he fidgets, like he’s working up to saying something that makes him deeply uncomfortable. “We did do a pretty good job last time around.”

“Yeah,” Carrie agrees. 

“I’m glad you’re here,” Rodney says. “I wasn’t the most...hospitable your last visit. It caught me off guard. But I’ve had plenty of time to prepare. And you certainly bring a lot to Atlantis. And...um,” he casts about wildly for some kind of distraction like he’s gotten himself on a path he doesn’t want to follow.

Carrie can guess at what he’s trying to say.

“I love you too, Merry,” she says, smiling as his eye snap up to hers, wild, and a little like he’s not sure he’s glad she jumped to that conclusion. He opens his mouth again and she shakes her head. “You don’t have to say it back. I know. Besides, our family’s issues with expressing feelings and intimacy is what got me out here the first time. Good thing too. You needed someone to swoop in and save your butt.”

Rodney goes from uncomfortable to outraged in seconds. “Swooped in?” he asks. “Save  _ my  _ butt?  _ I’m  _ the one who saved Atlantis.”

“Uh huh,” Carrie says, deliberately light, like she doesn’t believe him. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, brother.”

She opens his door just in time for him to shout, “I don’t know why Mom and Dad decided they needed more kids after me!” and she laughs all the way out of his office, aware that all Rodney’s underlings are torn between staring at her and staring at their boss. 

Carrie can only hope Atlantis is ready for two McKays, because she’s definitely ready for Atlantis. 

  
  
  
  



End file.
